Holding On
by Seasonal Dreamer
Summary: Marco and Dylan have just recently started dating. However Marco keeps getting nightmares that prove to be harmful later on. How will they cope? What other problems will Marco and Dylan face? Rated T to be safe. REVIEW! FIRST EVER FANFIC!
1. Chapter 1

Hi there! :)

Well, first of all I better say that, as sad as it seems, I just got started watching Degrassi: The Next Generation this year when they replayed every episode over the summer. I fell in **LOVE** with the Marco and Dylan relationship. :) I think they're so cute together! :) Anyways, I just recently started writing my own fanfiction about them, and I wanted to post it here after I found this site. :) Unfortuntely, I'm not sure if anyone other than me actually visits this site anymore for Marco and Dylan since all the stories date back to (earliest) 2008. Two years ago! I'm crossing my fingers that people still do so they can give me some feed back! :) I'm only going to put up a chapter or two and if people respond (hopefully with good reviews) I'll keep posting :) But if no one does, I won't since there's no point to uploading more if no one's reading them, right?

So finally, to anyone that's reading this now, enjoy and please review!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Degrassi :( Though I wish I did! Then I'd make more Marco and Dylan episodes :)

Rating may change in the future!

* * *

"Earth to Marco."

Marco del Rossi blinked, jolting out of a dazed daydream. His dark eyes focused on Dylan Michalchuk's amused ocean blue ones, before he blushed and looked down at his knees. It was Friday afternoon and they were having lunch at a small table in the far corner of the Dot Grill.

He had been thinking about the dream he had last night and many nights before, ever since he had started his relationship with Dylan. As enjoyable as their dates had been, the only dream Marco could have each night was the same, horrific one. It was all a jumble of flashes and screams, and as much as he tried to solve it, the moment he woke up it all started leaking from his memory like water in an open hand.

Dylan's eyebrows started to crease as Marco continued to stare down at his knees, cheeks still slightly pink. _What _is_ he thinking about?_ Dylan wondered, eyes fixated on the younger boy's averted gaze. Marco had this way of keeping important things to himself. Some days he would go into trances like this one and Dylan would end up staring at his ceiling late at night pondering what he was thinking about. It drove him crazy, but he supposed that was part of his charm.

The elder boy cocked his head to the side, smiling softly, and looked at Marco. He had no idea what made him fall head over heels for the younger boy in the first place, but he guessed part of it was due to how mind blowingly beautiful he was. Marco had this shiney, gorgeous dark hair that framed his tanned Italian face perfectly. His dark eyes had such unusual depth to them, like all his thoughts were locked away behind them that only he had access to. That's not to say Dylan hadn't tried, but whenever he did, those eyes would get a sparkle in them that would dance and tease, daring him to try and figure out the code. Dylan supposed the more time he spent with him the closer he would come to unlocking his secrets. And though he never admitted it, dark hair and dark eyes was always such a big turn on for Dylan. All he ever saw inside his house were blonde hair and blue eyed beauties, and seeing Marco stick out with his dark, mysertious manner, accompanied with his fragile stature made Dylan's heart do summersaults in his chest. Something he'd never experience in his life before meeting Marco del Rossi.

Marco continued to glance away, trying to gather his thoughts, but how could he? He didn't want to tell Dylan about his nightmare - it would make him seem like a little kid and he was young enough for him already. But he didn't want to lie to him. _He could probably tell anyway_, Marco thought disgusted; he was such an open book.

And it wasn't like they meant anything, they were just a figment of his imagination. Completely harmless. But never the less, they were disturbing from what little he could remember, and they had started to take a toll on his sleep. But he could deal with that later. Right now he had something, or rather some_one_ more important.

Marco gave Dylan an apologetic smile and said, "Sorry I must've spaced out."

Dylan teased, "Am I really that dull?"

"N-no no! I'm just - just really tired, I didn't get much sleep last night," Marco panically rushed to get his words out. "I just kept tossing and turning and - " Marco's words were stopped short as Dylan leaned over the table and placed one finger over his lips.

"Shhh," he whispered, smiling. "Don't worry, it was just a joke." He was so cute when he over thought things.

Marco gave a small nervous smile, inwardly scolding himself for being so stupid. He could never get over the anxious and giddy buzz he got from just being in the same room as Dylan. The older boy was, by far, the most gorgeous thing Marco had ever seen. His eyes were just deep pools of crystal clear water. The way they twinkled whenever he did something mischievious made him melt on the inside, which he repremended himself for - it was such a girly thing to feel. Yet it didn't stop him from disolving all over again when he saw that angelic mound of hair on top of his head. Marco loved the way those curls - those beautiful, golden curls - bounced whenever Dylan threw his head back howling with laughter. And on top of that, the older boy had such a strong, capable looking physique. Like he could protect him from whatever and _who_ever the world could throw at him, and it drove him wild. He never got tired of looking at him.

"So," Dylan said as they walked through the doors and to the park after paying the check. He smiled impishly while giving Marco a questioning look. Uh oh. He knew that look, and it wasn't the one that made his knees go weak or his heart beat a thousand times a second. "What _was_ my adorably over-anxious boyfriend daydreaming about?" He winked. "Nothing too bad I hope."

Marco blushed harder this time, loving the way Dylan called him his boyfriend. They hadn't been going out for too long, but every delicious second he spent with him was memorable and amazing.

"Nothing, really," Marco murmured, looking away.

Dylan stopped walking as they reached the park, checking to make sure they were alone, and placed two fingers under Marco's chin, lifting his eyes to meet his. Dylan knew how uncomfortable Marco was with touching while other people were around, as he had only recently became content with his sexuality. Though he still hadn't come out to his parents, something Dylan was trying to help Marco face. "Come on now," he coaxed, leaning down to give him a small, sweet kiss. Though Dylan and Marco both hid it, their minds whirled when their lips touched, causing them both to feel slightly dizzy.

Marco grinned, rolling his eyes. "Really Dylan I just spaced out, it happens a lot." He laughed, trying to be convincing about it. He was still light-headed from the kiss so it was hard to lie effectively. The younger boy knew he'd have to talk eventually, but just like the situation with his parents, he wasn't quite ready to confess yet.

Dylan loved how he could tell when Marco was lying, but not as much as the sound of his laugh. It was so sweet so...care-free.

He shook his head, but he decided to let it go for now. He didn't want to spoil their afternoon, so he just took Marco's hand as they continued their walk through the park, giggling, and savouring their time together.

* * *

"Marco, _ragazzo mio, dove sei stato?__**(my boy, where've you been?)**_"Mr. del Rossi called from the kitchen, slightly angry as Marco entered the front door. And as usual, whenever Marco's father got angry, which was usually about missing a meal, or confused he spoke in Italian. "_Abbiamo atteso per molto tempo!__**(We've been waiting for a long time!)**_"

Mrs. del Rossi gave Mr. del Rossi a stern look as Marco walked inside, gave his mom a kiss on the cheek and said, "Hey Pa."

Mr. del Rossi rolled his eyes at her and said more calmly, "Come, sit, dinner, it is ready."

He sat himself down, trying to hide his nerves. Marco felt like he was exposed. It was wrong, he knew, to feel guilty for liking Dylan, for liking _men_ in general. He wasn't to blame for being the way he was. Everywhere else he was comfortable in his own skin, but around his parents, possibly the biggest homophobes alive, he felt like he was less than dirt in their eyes. Or he would be if they ever found out. As long as they thought he was straight, he was their golden boy. This was why, as he often tried to explain to Dylan, he couldn't come out to them. Marco was positive they would hate him, disown him most likely, and he couldn't disappoint them like that. He had spent all his life trying to live up to their expectations, trying to be better for them, and acknowledging that their only child, their "pride and joy," was something they despised could be too much for them.

"Marco!" his father shouted. Marco jumped, looking at his father surprisingly. "Yeah Pa?" "_Ciò che è sbagliato con voi oggi Marco?__**(What is wrong with you today Marco?)**_ I've been trying to get you're attention. You're so quiet today it's, ah, unsettling. Where is my talkative boy eh?"

Marco looked down at his plate before catching his father's eye, smiling, and said, "I'm just tired Pa, I didn't have a great sleep last night."

Mrs. del Rossi, looking a little worried, asked, "Why are you not sleeping Marco? Are you not feeling well?"

"No Ma," Marco said exasperately. "I'm fine, I just had one night of bad sleep, okay? It's no big deal." He smiled reassuringly, yet scared on the inside that they'd spontaneously see right through him. _Maybe they already know_ Marco thought, terrified. _And they're just waiting for the right moment to yell at me_. He tried to push that thought out of his mind.

There was another long moment of awkward silence before Mr. del Rossi, fidgeting a little at their unusally quiet dinner table, said, "So, eh, Marco, how was school today?"

Marco glanced up from his plate, trying to act normal, and said, "Oh, you know Pa, it was just another ordinary day. I had a math test that I probably failed at," he laughed jokingly.

Mrs. del Rossi smiled, "Oh don't talk about such things, you are a very bright boy Marco, I bet you're at the top of your class!"

Marco laughed for real now. "Not likely Ma, as much as I wish I could never beat Tim at-"

"Tim?" Mr. del Rossi said his name like it was some awful plague. His father was still upset that Marco had let Tim stay at their house when he got kicked out of his home for being gay. "The homo? No no no, Marco, you must beat him, you cannot let this...this unnartural beast shame you like this?"

"Pa," Marco said, slightly bewildered. _Shame?_ "It's just math class, it's not like we're in some big competition. Besides he's like a math genius, that's how he got to be in my math class even though he's younger than me."

Marco's father looked like he was about to say something else when Mrs. del Rossi said soothingly, "Dear, _giusto lasciarlo andare__**(just let it go.)**__._"

Mr. del Rossi continued to mutter under his breath, and Marco caught a few words like _homo_ and _shameful_, before he decided he had to get out of there.

Carrying his dishes to the sink, he kissed his mom again on the cheek and practically fled to his bedroom. Once inside, he shut the door and leaned against it, eyes closed and breathing hard. He couldn't do this for much longer. Marco was tired of lying. Of pretending.

The phone rang, and he jumped before shakily picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Marco," Dylan greeted, smiling, not noticing the frightened tone in his boyfriend's voice. He flopped down on his bed, staring at his dark blue walls that were barely noticable under all his hockey memorabilia and posters."What're you doing tomorrow?"

"Oh n-n-nothing I d-don't th-think," Marco stuttered, still shook up.

"Are you okay?" Dylan asked, concern evident in his voice. Marco could just see his eyebrows knitting up in worry. Dylan always got overly concerned about Marco. If something wasn't quite right, he tried to do everything he could to make it better.

"Y-yeah I'm fine Dylan. It's just-" Marco sighed. Call him paranoid, but he was sure his father or mother would hear him if he uttered it over the phone.

"What Marco, what is it? Are you hurt?" Marco could hear Dylan stand up from his creaky bed. Dylan's hand was on his bedroom door, ready to go if Marco needed him.

"I can't say it over the phone, but c-can I tell you tomorrow? It-It's no big deal, really, but I think...I dunno if..." Marco stopped short and barely surpressed yet another sigh. It hurt Dylan to hear Marco so upset, so _conflicted_, and he wished he could make whatever it was go away.

Dylan shook his head slightly to clear it. "Do you want to talk about it? I could come pick you up..?" he trailed off suggestively. Marco glanced at the clock - it was far too late to go out.

"No, no, really Dylan it's fine, besides you need to rest up, you have a big game this week." Marco smiled.

Dylan laughed, he had almost completely forgotten about that! Weird. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow del Rossi."

"Bye Dyl," and they hung up.

Lying on his bed, Dylan was wondering how he could've possibly forgotten about his game. This one decided whether they'd get into the playoffs for their devision or not, because this year the competition had been tough. Turning over to flop on his stomach, Dylan smiled and pointed the finger at one individual. _Marco_. When he was around him, as his younger sister Paige so thoughtfully pointed out, his brain was as good as fried. He couldn't think about anything else but him, and anything to do with him, when Marco was in the room. Which was both a good and bad thing.

Without meaning to, Dylan found himself pondering curiously about what had happened at dinner to make Marco sound so...shaken up. _Did they find out?_ He had mixed feelings about that. The older boy wanted Marco's parents to know that he was their son's boyfriend, but Marco's parents were big homophobes, and Dylan didn't want to think about what the confrontation might be like, especially with him not there. And that would be when Marco was ready to tell them. If it was just an out of the blue thing...

_No, no_, Dylan shook his head. He was being ridiculous. Why on earth would the del Rossi's assume the "worst" about their son when he was obviously their pride and joy? He was just being paranoid. However, it wouldn't hurt to call him first thing tomorrow morning...The sooner he found out what was wrong, the better he'd feel. The elder boy hated not knowing what was going on. It made him feel helpless, and he couldn't afford to feel like that where Marco was concerned. He knew the younger boy looked up to him like some sort of protector, a role he whole-heartedly intended on full-filling, though he never actually said so out loud. It was just the way Marco looked at him sometimes. A look no one else could hope to imitate and make him feel the same way. Awe and trust would swirl through his big brown eyes, penetrating Dylan's whenever the older boy would come up with a solution to their problems. It made his heart do back flips; he felt so important then. He just wanted to hug Marco and kiss him whenever the younger boy looked at him like that.

God, Marco had no idea what kind of effect he had on him.

He grinned at the ceiling before switching off the lights, not bothering to change out of his clothes, and rolling over to fall asleep.

* * *

Reviews are very much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

_"Marco!" both Mrs. del Rossi and Dylan cried in anguish._

_Marco's head spun as he hit the floor, faintly hearing Dylan and his mother cry his name. Pain had erupted on the side of Marco's face, tears spilling from his eyes as he heard those hateful words come spitting from his once proud father._

_"Non sempre mi parli con quel tono, frocio,__**(Don't ever speak to me in that tone, faggot,)**__" Mr. del Rossi growled dangerously, pointing his finger in Marco's now reddened and tear streaked face. "Tu non sei mio figlio, non puoi essere mio figlio, se sei gay, e farò in modo di cambiare.__**(You are not my son, you cannot be my son if you are gay, and I will make sure you change.)**__"_

_He saw his father throw a punch at him as everything went black, and suddenly his dad's face transformed into Dylan's beautiful one._

_"Marco, I can't deal with this, with you, any more," Dylan told him seriously. There was no remorse in his blue eyes. Just hate and disappointment as he looked at Marco lying crumpeled up, bloody and bruised, on the floor._

_"No, Dyl, don't go, don't leave me!" Marco pleaded, reaching out to grab on to Dylan's foot."Please, don't...Dylan..." He flinched as Dylan kicked out, trying to losen Marco's grip on him. _

_He morphed back into his hateful father. Mr. del Rossi started swearing and cursing at him, while Marco found himself speaking Italian, something he rarely did in full sentences, trying to make him see sense._

_" Per favore ascoltami, Pa, è necessario lasciare che questo lato folle omofobo di si va! Sono ancora la stessa persona! Sono ancora la stessa persona, Pa! Sono ancora il tuo ragazzo! __**(Please listen to me, Pa, you need to let this crazy homophobic side of you go! I'm still the same person! I'm still the same person, Pa! I'm still your boy!)**__"_

_It was Dylan now._

_"Dyl, please."_

_His father._

_"Pa."_

_Dylan._

_"Just-"_

_They both started swirling around him, pushing in suffocatingly close. He couldn't breathe - but he had to make them understand!_

_"Pa, Dylan, no no no, please!" he cried desperately._

Marco lashed out in his sleep, moaning.

_He heard ringing..._

The phone.

The phone was ringing next to his ear. Loudly. Vibrating in his hand, where he had left it last night when he fell asleep. Marco suddenly gasped, jerking out of his nightmare and into the real world as he unintentionally pressed the talk button. Not noticing what he'd done, his hand flew to his heart as he panted, trying to calm down.

"Marco?" Dylan asked. All he heard was gasping and Marco muttering to himself in Italian, _"Solo un sogno, era solo un sogno...__**(Just a dream, it was just a dream...)**__"_ Over and over again. It sounded like he was tring to console himself.

"Marco!"

Marco jumped, looking at the phone as Dylan's voice came out of it. Looking at it like it was some deadly animal that was getting ready to pounce on him. Shakily, he picked it up, and said slowly, "H-hel-lo?"

"Marco, what's wrong? I called and all I heard was gasping and you were speaking Italian and I-" Dylan trailed off. It was deadly silent on the other end. Even the panting had stopped. "Marco?" he whispered, now slightly afraid.

There was silence for a few agonizingly long seconds before Marco let out a deep breath and said, "I was speaking Italian?"

The older boy burst out laughing. "How could you not know?"

Marco sounded incredulous. "I have no idea." And in truth he hadn't.

Dylan grinned, figuring he'd ask Marco what happened later, and said, "I'm coming to pick you up. I have a surprise for you."

It was Marco's turn to smile. "Really? What is it?"

Dylan chuckled again before teasingly saying, "I dunno you're just going to have to wait."

"Dylllllllllllll," Marco whined.

Dylan smiled softly into the phone before hanging up.

"Wh...wait, hold on a second - Oof!" Marco groaned as he fell for what felt like the billionth time.

Laughing, Dylan skated over to the younger boy and showered him with snow as he stopped just in front of him.

"Hey!" Marco covered his face with his arms, giggling. "A little help down here?"

They were skating on an empty frozen river. Or, rather, _Dylan_ was skating and Marco was attempting to. Marco didn't mind however; he loved watching Dylan take those powerful strides with his legs. He could just sit back and watch him for days. Dylan was so _strong_.

Dylan chortled, reaching down to take his boyfriend into his arms, steadying him. "You weren't kidding when you said you couldn't skate," Dylan joked. Marco playfully swatted at his arm, faking a hurt expression. Grinning Dylan leaned down and kissed Marco's nose. Marco blushed, shoving Dylan away saying, "Come on, I'm never going to get this if I don't practice."

Dylan giggled this time, and Marco gave him a warm, tender smile that made Dylan's heart pound like he had just run a marathon.

They continued to make progress until Marco, exhausted and frozen, asked to take a break. Dylan skated towards the riverbank, towing a beaming, shivering Marco along with him. Unlacing their skates, Dylan glanced over at the younger boy, wondering what he had neglected to tell him on the phone the other night. And his dream.

Meanwhile Marco was trying his best not to stare at the hockey hunk sitting just inches away as they both dragged themselves up. He could feel the warmth coming off of him in waves, and all Marco wanted to do just then was curl up to his safe, warm chest and sleep forever. And he probably would've too, if the call of hot chocolate and marshmallows wasn't so strong.

...But the way Dylan's lips looked...

The older boy grinned at his quivering boyfriend. Without warning the younger boy reached up and kissed him hard on the mouth, feeling their warmth beneath his frozen lips. Dylan, blushing (which was unusual for him), kissed him back with relish, both hearts soaring.

Marco was really getting into the moment, as cold as he was. The warmth he felt when Dylan kissed him was simply Dylan's lips parted slightly, breathing in the pure delicious smell of him, Marco carefuly ran his tongue along Dylan's bottom lip lightly. Dylan moaned with longing, meeting Marco's tongue with his. The younger boy shakily ran his gloved fingers up to Dylan's chest, resting them there as Dylan placed his hands on Marco's waist. Marco had never been happier.

However, when they finally did part, Marco was trembling very harshly, despite how warm and giddy his heart felt. Surprised and slightly panicky, Dylan swooped him up and started to jog to his car, Marco holding on to the skates. Marco didn't object; no one would see them anyway, besides, he was _f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g!_ He wrapped his legs around the older boy's middle and secured his arms around Dylan's neck, resting his head on his shoulders, completely content. But freezing.

Dylan placed Marco in the passenger seat and turned the air on full blast as he started on the short distance back to his house. Unfortunately, the air came out ice cold, causing Marco to shiver more violently. And with good reason too, Dylan noted anxiously; the temperature read -20 degress Celsius (-4 degrees Fahrenheit).

Very soon they arrived at the Michalchuk's house, and Dylan picked Marco up again from his seat and headed towards his backyard. Dylan nudged open his always unlocked back door with his foot (his front door would've been locked) and stepped inside. He heard Marco sigh with relief as the warm air hit him. The older boy sat Marco down at his kitchen table as he hurriedly made an emergency cup of hot chocolate.

While the water was boiling Dylan ran into his living room to find the warmest blanket he could and wrapped it around Marco's shoulders. Marco blushed, muttering something about this being comepletely unnecessary, but Dylan silenced his talking with a soft kiss to the forehead. "I can't have my boyfriend freeze to death," Dylan winked, making Marco blush harder.

Grinning, Dylan poured two giant mugs of hot chocolate, giving one to Marco, and sat down across from him. Once colour started to return to Marco's face, Dylan found himself staring at the younger boy curiously. Feeling the eyes on him, Marco looked up, meeting Dylan's gaze with his own.

"What?" Marco asked, feeling slightly self-conscious.

"You know," Dylan started slowly. "You never did tell me what you didn't want to say over the phone last night."

Marco glanced down at his cup.

"Or about your dream." The older boy added.

Fear rippled across Marco's face as his eyes shot up, shaking his head profusely.

"Marco," Dylan said seriously. "You know I'm not going to let this go."

Marco sighed. He knew.

"Why don't you start with what you were going to tell me last night?" Dylan suggested, trying to get Marco to talk.

Fidgeting with his cup, Marco muttered, "I'm not sure it really matters anymore. My dream...kinda changed that. Or it might've...I...I'm really not sure..."

Dylan just looked at him patiently, waiting for him to explain.

Looking down again, Marco started, "Well...I've been kind of having the same dream for a while...if you can really call it that. It was more of a nightmare actually." He smirked into his glass. "I could never remember it when I woke up. I'm not sure how but I know it was the same one...everything just felt so familiar. It's just one of those things you just..._know_." Marco looked up and Dylan nodded in understanding, waiting for the rest.

"But...last night was different. Everything was so...vivid. It was like it actually happened and for a second I almost believed it had. But," Marco took a deep breath and looked into those beautiful eyes again, but this time he didn't look down. "I dreamt that I had come out to my parents. My dad didn't take it so well. He hit me, hard, and I could almost feel the pain. Like he actually had, but then you were there...calling my name but it was like you were trying to talk to me under water. It sounded so distant and...sludgy. He began cursing me out in Italian and I remember trying to reason with him. And-" Marco's breath caught.

Dylan had been submissive the entire time Marco had been trying to explain. It was hard to hear how upset this nightmare had made him, but he knew there was a bigger part to it. And he wasn't so sure he wanted to hear it. Never the less, he gave Marco an encouraging smile and Marco began talking again.

"And then the...'dream'...kind of morphed into a different one. And this one scared me more Dylan, because...because it mostly concerned you," Marco said shakily. "You told me you couldn't deal with me...with my problem about my parents not knowing...that you didn't...care about me anymore," The younger boy's eyes got slightly watery. "And I'm afraid my dream might come true." Marco said sadly, looking away again.

"Oh, honey," Dylan whispered, walking around the table and wrapping his arms around him. "Listen to me, Marco. That will never happen. I will always be here for you and care for you, no matter what. I-" he paused, changing his mind and instead saying, "I - I'm sure...I'm _positive_ your father, or mother as a matter of fact, could never and would never do that to you. They will always love you unconditionally. I promise." Dylan kissed Marco's forehead softly.

Marco sniffed, snuggling up to Dylan's warm chest. He felt foolish, but he didn't want to move just yet. He loved being in Dylan's arms. Being comforted by Dylan's words. Eventually, Marco drew another shaky breath and said, 'I'm sorry. I was being stupid, I shouldn't have let a such a stupid dream get to me. I'm just-"

"-being way too hard on yourself," Dylan finished for him, smiling. "As usual. You don't need to apologize Marco."

"I'm sorry," Marco murmured.

Shaking his head, Dylan groaned.

Despite himself, Marco felt himself grinning, and looked up at give Dylan a quick peck on the cheek.

"You guys are too cute," came a higher pitched voice from behind them.

The two whirled around to see Paige Michalchuk standing there arms crossed and smiling at them.

"Paige!" Dylan exclaimed, looking annoyed.

Smirk still in place, Paige answered, "Hon, if you really wanted to be alone you could've gone somewhere more private. This is the _kitchen._ You do realize other people live here too." She winked as she sat herself down across from them. "And anyways, don't worry, I'll be leaving you two love birds soon; Spin's coming to pick me for a date."

Marco grinned at his friend, and soon enough they began talking about what had happened at school the other day but Dylan was only half listening. He knew Paige loved them both to death, and they did too, but really, did she have to come in _now?_

After a few more minutes of laughs and conversation, the doorbell rang and Paige's eyes lit up. Marco winked at Dylan as both he and Paige got up to get the door. Dylan moaned to himself; he didn't want Marco to _leave_. After several seconds of debating, he decided to get up to greet Paige's boyfriend too.

He walked into the entry way just in time to see Spinner Mason clapping Marco on the shoulder as both he and Paige laughed, obviously at something Marco had said. The younger boy smiled widely at the two, no one noticing Dylan leaning up against the wall, arms crossed, watching them.

Spinner hadn't been too thrilled about Marco's sexuality at first. In fact he down right hated it for a little while. But, eventually, thanks to the fact that Marco got bashed for being gay on his way to see Dylan play in his hockey game, he got over his homophobia and has been feeling horrible about it since. He even helped set up Dylan and Marco's very first date, which they both were very grateful for. Never the less Dylan couldn't help but feel a slight bit of resentment towards Spinner for not being there for Marco when he had felt the most vulnerable and the most in need of a friend.

Suddenly Spinner looked over Paige's shoulder and saw Dylan standing there. "Hey Dylan!" he called. Both Marco and Paige turned around, grinning. Dylan returned the smile and nodded. " 'Evening Mister Mason," he greeted formally.

Paige rolled her eyes. "Come on honeybee, we should probably get going," she said, giving Marco a peck on the cheek and waving goodbye to Dylan.

Spinner beamed, "Later Marco."

"See ya Spin," Marco replied as he gave him a low-five. "Hey, are we still up for a movie later?"

"Oh you know it!" Spinner laughed. "It's going to be a zombie flick so you should probably bring your teddy bear."

Marco made a face at him, which both Paige and Spinner laughed at before closing the door.

An hour and a half later, Marco glanced at the clock, stretching. "Ah, I have to get home, my dad'll kill me if I'm late again," Marco yawned.

"Mmm," Dylan grumbled, not wanting for either of them to move. They had been quite comfortably cuddling on the couch watching some bad action movie. "Stayyyy," he whimpered.

Marco smiled warmly at him, giving him a quick kiss good bye as he got up. "I wish I could stay," he said sincerely. They started towards the door before Marco paused, turning back to look at Dylan seriously. "Are...you busy tomorrow after school?" he asked.

"Umm, I don't think so," Dylan said, putting his hands in his pockets. "Why?"

"Oh I just...well I need to talk to you." Marco took a deep breath, looking slightly troubled.

Dylan looked confused. "Sure, we can talk tomorrow. Wait, should I be worried?" The older boy asked cautiously.

"No, no!" Marco said quickly. "I just need to talk." He smiled reassuringly. "Trust me, there's nothing to worry about. Just...meet me at the Dot right after school." He gave Dylan another peck on the cheek before he opened the door and left.

"Hey Marco," Ellie Nash greeted, walking up to her best friend's locker, her red hair blowing behind her.

"And how was your weekend Miss Nash?" Marco grinned wickedly. "Hmm, let me guess, 'dreamy,' 'amazing,' 'wonderful,' am I getting close?"

"Oh shut up del Rossi," Ellie smacked his arm. "Just because me and Sean hung out _a little_ doesn't mean anything happened."

Marco raised an eyebrow.

She stared determindly back at him, not faltering.

Marco rolled his eyes, "Okay Ellie, let's just go with that," and shut his locker.

"So," she said loudly, following him to their home room. "Have you decided when you were going to tell your parents about you and Dylan?"

"Ellie!" Marco hissed, looking around. Thankfully no one seemed to have heard her. "Why not say it louder, I don't think people in _China_ heard you!" He pulled her off to the side, whispering, "I haven't yet okay?"

"Marco," she said disapprovingly.

"Just listen, alright?" he took a deep breath. "I'm going to talk it over with Dylan today. I'm not sure if I'm ready yet to...disappoint them like that, and I just want to see what Dylan thinks first."

"Marco, you know he's going to tell you to go for it," Ellie told him. "He's been pretty patient but we both know he's been wanting you to come out to them for a long time."

Marco sighed. "Yeah I guess." The Italian boy looked at her some-what desperately. "I just w-" but he was cut off by the bell telling them to get to class.

Giving Marco a look, they both walked the rest of the way to their classroom swiftly.

The rest of the day went by fairly slowly for Marco and Dylan. They both wanted it to end so they could talk, as they hardly got to see each other throughout the school day since they were two grades apart.

_Come on, come on,_ Dylan pleaded with the clock impatiently, tapping his pencil against the desk. His best friend Ryan looked over at him and grinned, knowing exactly why he was so anxious to leave. When it finally did, Dylan ran to his locker and hurriedly began packing his bag.

"Hot date with Marco or something?" Ryan smirked, leaning up against the lockers.

Dylan winked at him, "Wouldn't you like to know," and practically sprinted out the school doors.

He ran all the way to The Dot and burst through the doors. Dylan looked around and spotted Marco sitting at the same table they sat at on Friday, looking down at his fidgeting hands. Taking a deep breath, Dylan walked over to him and sat himself down. Marco jumped slightly, but smiled up at him.

"Okay, what's this about Marco?" Dylan asked, nervous.

"Don't worry Dylan, it's nothing really it's just..." Marco paused, leaning in to whisper. "I...I was thinking...I think I...I was wondering whether..." Marco struggled a bit, trying to form the right words. "Well...I think I might try...to come out...to my parents."

Dylan's whole face lit up, his previously concerned expression wiped clean. _Marco was ready?_ He thought grinning. The older boy couldn't believe it. He wanted to run around and hug him.

Marco was about to ask whether Dylan thought he was ready, but he held his tongue. That was obviously a stupid question, of course he'd say Marco was ready; he's been wanting Marco to be ready for a while. Plus it was something only he himself could really know.

But Marco nervously wondered whether he really _was_ ready. _Oh shut up_ Marco scolded himself. Of course he was ready.

He bit his lip.

* * *

Please, please, please review! If people do I'll put more up!


	3. Chapter 3

**Enchantixfae:** First of all, thank you so much for reviewing! :) And yes, he sort of is. But he can only predict when something _really_ bad's going to happen, and only when he's asleep. Not like in those stereotype movies where they have a crystal ball and start acting freaky :) Only, he doesn't really acknowledge it himself, he just thinks that it's something that just happens to him...for now muhahaha ;)

**Author's Note:** I forgot to mention this in the last two chapters, but I'm sorry if the translations are off; I used Translator haha.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Degrassi...though if I did it'd be pretty cool :D

Enjoy! And please review! :)

"You can do this Marco, they're your parents, what's the worst thing they can do?" Dylan asked, trying to raise Marco's spirits. He grabbed Marco's hand and kissed it. They were sitting on the del Rossi's couch, waiting for Marco's parents to come home. It had been a few days since their meeting at The Dot, and today was the day. Marco was going to 'come out of the closet'. To his parents. Possibly the two biggest homophobes alive. Fantastic.

But that was the wrong question to ask, however. Marco could think of a billion, jillion things that could go wrong. "Oh I don't know Dylan," Marco said sarcastically. "They could disown me - no wait - they could yell at me, then disown me, _kill_ me, then they'll bring me back to life so they can kill me again." He made a face.

"Marco," Dylan smiled, his eyes twinkling at him. He kissed his hand again, staring lovingly into those anxious brown eyes. Unable to resist temptation, he leaned forward, and grazed Marco's lips with his own. The moment they touched Marco's anxiety melted away. Instead they were on fire with some emotion Dylan couldn't quite put his finger on, but it caused his heart to splutter and start kissing him more hungrily. Marco gasped and dug his fingers into his curls, responding with equal enthusiasm. Hearts beating, fingers roaming, Dylan couldn't imagine a more perfect moment. But when Dylan parted, breathless and steaming, Marco teasingly kissed him again, pulling his bottom lip with him. Dylan groaned, wanting more. He leaned in close, resting his forehead on Marco's. "You drive me crazy sometimes del Rossi."

Marco smiled softly at him. "I don't know how I could do this - _anything_ - without you Dylan. I need you more than I think you realize." He looked somewhat self-consciously away, but Dylan brought his fingers under his chin. Looking into his eyes, Dylan felt like it was the right moment. "Marco, I-" but he stopped short as they both froze. The front door was starting to unlock as they jumped apart, trying not to look awkward.

"Hey Pa," Marco greeted.

Mr. del Rossi jumped. He obviously hadn't expected anyone to be home. He smiled though, saying, "Hey Marco, what are you doing home son?" He saw Dylan, smiled, and nodded in acknowledgement. "Hello Dylan, how are you?"

"Pretty good Mr. del Rossi," Dylan grinned, giving a quick wink at Marco that Mr. del Rossi didn't catch.

Marco, despite himself, blushed, and furiously tried to hide it from his father. "So where's Ma?" Marco asked his dad, his back facing him to conceal his red cheeks. He didn't want to do this without her being there. Partly because he thought it would just be better to say it while they were both here, but mostly it was due to the fact that he didn't want to have to say it a second time.

"Oh she is coming Marco, but what is the big news?" Mr. del Rossi suddenly lit up. "You have a girlfriend yes!" Mr. del Rossi smiled hugely. Marco felt his ressolve start to break. Desperately he locked eyes with Dylan while Mr. del Rossi, still grinning, looked from Marco to Dylan and back again, not sensing their obvious discomfort.

Dylan was feeling slightly uneasy himself, but he nodded smiled reassuringly at Marco anyway, who looked scared to death.

Marco took a deep breath before turning to his father, smiling, and saying, "Let's just wait for Ma to get here."

Seeming giddy, Mr. del Rossi all but hopped to his seating chair, beaming.

The three of them sat there, Marco and Dylan on the couch, not looking at anything in particular, and Mr. del Rossi in his chair, smiling at the two of them. When it seemed like it would never end, the door opened again revealing Mrs. del Rossi. And casuing Marco to jump three feet in the air.

"Marco?" she called.

"Yeah Ma," Marco answered, voice squeaky. "We're in the living room."

Looking slightly confused, Mrs. del Rossi stood beside her husband. "What is this about Marco?"

Before Marco could say anything, Mr. del Rossi looked to her excitedly. "Marco's got himself a girlfriend!" he exclaimed.

Shock and happiness crawled across her face as she beamed at Marco, crying, "Really Marco? Is this true! Oh my boy!" She ran up to kiss both of Marco's cheeks.

"No, Ma-"

"When do we get to meet this girl eh Marco?" Mr. del Rossi said exuberantly. "Who is good enough for my talented boy?"

"Pa, let-"

"She must be beautiful Marco," Mrs. del Rossi sighed.

"Listen to me!" Marco cried. They both looked at him, slightly surprised. Dylan just looked down, twiddling his thumbs. He took a deep breath and said, "I don't have a girlfriend."

Their faces fell before Mrs. del Rossi said comfortingly, "Don't worry Marco, you'll find a nice girl who-"

"No Ma," Marco said sternly. "I won't."

"Don't be foolish Marco, of course-" Mr. del Rossi started.

"No, no I won't because-" he shakily took a breath. "Because I'm - I'm gay." He whispered the last word, but everyone still heard it.

Silence. There was nothing but eerie silence. Marco wanted nothing more but someone to say _something_. And suddenly, his father did.

"Is that why you brought him here," Mr. del Rossi spat, sudden venom dripping in his tone as he jerked his thumb in Dylan's direcion. His eyes narrowed, giving Dylan a murderous glare. Marco was surprised the older boy didn't just get up and flee from his house, from Marco's life, for good.

"Is that why you've been spending so much time with him? Who is this boy Marco! He is you're boyfriend yes!" Mr. del Rossi roared suddenly. Dylan flinched, but held his ground, trying not to look scared or guilty, even though he felt both. The sudden urge to get up and run from Mr. del Rossi's lethal stare was strong, but he couldn't leave the Italian boy. Especially not now.

As scared as he was, he was more worried about Marco. The younger boy looked like he was about to faint or throw up. But what he did next surprised him.

"PA! _Fermarlo! _**(Stop it!)**" Marco demanded, eyes watering. "_Questo non ha nulla a che fare con Dylan. Per favore, Pa, appena ... appena mi sente fuori posto?__**(This has nothing to do with Dylan. Please, Pa, just...just hear me out okay?)**_"

Dylan looked surprised and admiring at Marco. Though he had absolutely no idea what he was saying, he understood that Marco was defending both himself and Dylan. And despite how heated, angry, and uncomfortable the situation was, Dylan was _very_ turned on hearing Marco speaking Italian, though he felt guilty and a little ashamed for thinking such thoughts while Marco was having the fight of a lifetime. No matter what happened, Dylan would be here for him. He would not let anything bad happen to Marco. He'd rather chop off his arm.

Marco took a deep, steadying breath, looking at his mother quickly who hadn't said a word. He couldn't tell whether she looked angry or scared, but he carried on anyway, his voice deadly serious. "_Ascolta. So che i problemi sono con persone come ... beh gente come me, ma sei solo andando a fare i conti con essa perché il fatto della questione è che io sono gay Pa, e se non può accettare che - __**(Listen. I know you have issues with people like...well people like me, but you're just going to have to deal with it because the fact of the matter is, I'm gay Pa, and if you can't accept that-)**_"

But before any of them knew what was happening, Mr. del Rossi slapped Marco in the face, sending him spinning to the floor.

"Marco!" both Mrs. del Rossi and Dylan cried in anguish.

Marco's head whirled as he hit the floor, faintly hearing Dylan and his mother cry his name. Pain erupted on Marco's cheek, tears spilling from his eyes as he heard those hateful words come spitting from his once proud father.

"_Non sempre mi parli con quel tono, frocio,_**(Don't ever speak to me in that tone, faggot,)**" Mr. del Rossi growled dangerously, pointing his finger in Marco's now reddened and tear streaked face. "_Tu non sei mio figlio, non puoi essere mio figlio, se sei gay, e farò in modo di cambiare._**(You are not my son, you cannot be my son if you are gay, and I will make sure you change.)**"

Dylan dropped to his knees, trying to comfort Marco as best he could while Mr. del Rossi shouted at him in Italian. And trying to control the blinding rage he felt towards Marco's father. _How _dare_ he hurt him_! Dylan thought furiously.

Mrs. del Rossi looked at her husband frightfully. As much as she loved them both, she was too afraid to move. She had never seen her husband so angry, yet she knew it was all from shock. It had to be...

Blindingly fast for a man so big, he shoved Dylan away from Marco. He grabbed the blonde by the hair and flung him out their front door, locking it. "Marco!" Dylan cried, terrified. He ran to the del Rossi's window, peering in anxiously.

Horror hit him as he saw Mr. del Rossi punch Marco, shouting, "_È orribile pretesto per un essere umano! Riuscirò a sconfiggere i gay fuori di voi se devo, ma non sarà un homo fiammeggiante mentre si è sotto il mio tetto! __**(You horrible excuse for a human being! I will beat the gay out of you if I have to, but you will NOT be a flaming homo while you are under my roof!)**_"

Marco tried to get up, but Mr. del Rossi started beating on him, punching and kicking every part of him that he could reach. Suddenly, as his father continued to abuse him, Dylan became horribly aware that Marco was barely stirring.

Marco, dazed with pain, looked up at his violently angry father. _I'm dying_ Marco thought acceptingly, his brain scrambling, his body struggling to absorb the blows. He had nothing to lose. His father would surely end up killing him anyway, so he said the one name that meant the world to him. "_Dylan_" he whispered in parting, his head hitting the floor as blackness took him.

Dylan's heart turned to ice. "_NO!_" Dylan screamed in pure agony, pounding on the window. "No, no, no, no, NO!" He frantically ran at the door, throwing his weight against it until it broke. In pure rage he punched Mr. del Rossi to the ground, knocking him out cold.

The older boy didn't even take notice of the younger boy's mother, who sat curled up and crying on the floor. Dylan ran straight to Marco, falling to his knees. "Oh Marco, no," Dylan sobbed, cradling his head. Blood was flowing freely from Marco's nose and the many cuts that littered his body. The bruises were more evident, however. There was more black and blue skin then his normal tan complexion, and his shoulder looked like it wasn't even connected to his body."No, no, no!" Tears cascading down from his already blue eyes, Dylan whipped out his phone and called an ambulance, crying into the receiver.

When they assured Dylan that they were leaving straight away, he hung up and stared into his boyfriend's seemingly lifeless face. _How could he do this to him?_ Dylan cried in his head. Marco was nothing but kind, sweet, and adorably naïve. He had done nothing, _nothing_ that could justify him deserving such brutality. From his own _father_ no less. But Dylan couldn't feel any other emotion other than grief. He'd allow himself to get angry later, but right now his heart felt like it was being ripped from his chest and stomped on.

When the paramedics burst threw the entry way, they carefully observed the damage before lifting his limp body onto the stretcher. As gently and quickly as they could they rolled the stretcher into the back of the ambulance with Dylan not far behind. He hopped into the back and stood there glaring at them, his eyes daring anyone to disagree with him coming along. They answered with simply shutting the back door and speading off, sirens wailing.

When they arrived they rushed Marco inside, but they refused to allow Dylan to follow. Instead a dark-skinned woman police officer came up to him and asked him to tell her what exactly happened. Numbly he began reciting everything he had seen and heard. He told them how Mr. del Rossi had mostly screamed at them in Italian and how he couldn't understand him, but Marco could. How Marco's father had hit him, how he burst through the door to try and save him. Everything.

When he was done they nodded sypathetically and promised they would do all they could to help. Soon Dylan was all alone, so he pulled out his phone again and dialed his home number, face blank and emotionless.

"Dylan?" his mother asked. "Where are you? We went by Marco's house to tell you to come for dinner because you weren't answering your phone but no one was there and there were police and-Dylan what happened?"

"Mom I'm at the hospital with Marco," he said in a monotone. "His dad took the news worse then we could've ever imagined. Mom, he almost killed him."

"_What?_" Mrs. Michalchuk choked out. "No, that's impossible Dylan, I met his parents before and his father absolutely _adores_ him-"

"That was when he thought Marco was straight," Dylan hissed. "Now that he knows he's gay he's _scum_."

There was silence. "We're on our way." The phone clicked as the call ended. Dylan slid down against the wall, phone in hand, and placed his head in his knees. And he waited.

* * *

"Where is Marco del Rossi!" Paige roared, bursting through the hospital's front doors, eyes ablaze. Spinner was not far behind, looking equally as angry and upset. Some of the nurses ran towards her and tried to shush her, but she and Spinner just glared at them murderously.

Paige's eyes suddenly fell on Dylan's curled up form, and she ran to him. "Oh Dylan!" she cried, hugging him.

"Where is he?" Spinner asked the older boy somberly.

Dylan shrugged, depressed. "They won't let me see him."

Mr. and Mrs. Michalchuk ran into the hospital then too, spotted the group against the wall, and quickly started towards them.

"What happened? What's wrong with him? Did they-" Mr. Michalchuk's questions were interrupted.

"I haven't heard a _damn_ thing," Dylan shouted bitterly, getting up and pacing. "I don't know if he broke anything, how bad the damages are, NOTHING." His fury and frustration was beyond anything he'd ever felt.

"What the _hell!_" Spinner stormed, glaring at the secretaries and doctors who passed by. They flinched away from the sheer force of Spinner's hate-filled stare.

They stayed there for hours, completely uninformed and getting angrier and more worried by the second. But finally, _finally_, a doctor came into the waiting room. He was tall and had short, light brown hair. His green eyes peered at the clipboard he was holding and called out, "Dylan Michalchuk?"

Dylan leapt up and practically flew towards him, his family not far behind. "Where's Marco? What's wrong with him?" they all demanded at once.

"Calm down, calm down he's going to be fine," he assured them, though not sounding too positive himself. "My name's Doctor Reival." He glanced down at his clipboard. "The injuries he sustained were not too severe, though I'm not sure when he'll wake up." The way Dr. Reival said _when_ made Dylan think he meant _if_. The thought almost stopped Dylan's breathing all together.

"He had a couple of fractured ribs," Dr Reival carried on. "A dislocated shoulder, a broken nose, and some pretty serious bruising all over his body including his skull. But I dare say it could've been worse." He looked at them seriously, leading them to his office. "Mr. del Rossi was very lucky. Had his ribs broken all the way they would've punctured his lungs and possibly his heart. And that's not to mention that his brain might possibly swell from the damage." He held up a model of the skull. "There's approximately one-eighth of a centimeter of space between the skull and the brain, so room for it to swell is basically non-existant. We'll need to take a CAT scan of his brain to make sure, but we're just obligated to tell you the possible dangers Mr. del Rossi is in." He looked apologetically at them. "I'm sorry to say he seems to be unconscious at the moment."

"You...mean he's in a coma?" Spinner gaped at him. Dylan thought he was going to pass out.

Dr. Reival shook his head slowly. "I would be so rash as to say he's in a coma. That's far more serious then we had anticipated. Often patients stay unconscious for a couple of days and wake up without having the difficulties or symptoms of those who were comatose. But I will need to take an x-ray of his brain to be positive, but for now I'm not going to say whether he is or isn't."

Dylan was utterly speechless.

"Can we see him?" Paige asked, tears in her eyes.

Dr. Reival smiled empathetically at her. "By all means follow me."

"Thank you," Mrs. Michalchuk whispered as they all trailed behind Dylan and Dr. Reival. They walked through giant, wooden double doors that swung inwards automatically as they approached. The walls were all completely white and the lights overhead made everything seem unrealistically incandescent.

"He's in room 204," Dr. Rieval pointed to the door down the hall.

Dylan completely lost it and sprinted down the hallway, bursting through the door. His breath caught. Marco looked so..._broken_. The heart monitor beeped feebly away as Dylan looked at him. His chest, nose, head, and shoulder were all wapped up with some sort of a cream coloured brace. The cuts on Marco's arms had weird-looking white bandages on them, and the bruises looked more horrible now then they did before. His face, however, looked so...peaceful. It was completely wiped of all emotion, because for the first time in a long while, Marco had no dreams to terrorize him. He couldn't help it - as soon as he saw him he broke down, kneeling down and laying his head on Marco's bed, sobbing.

"Oh Marco."


	4. Chapter 4

First of all...

It's 9/11 today :(

May everyone remember those who died rest in peace and everyone who lost a friend or family member because of it find solace. **/3**

**Enchantixfae, Rebecca, bc: **Thank you all so much for the reviewa! :D **Rebecca** - I know I'd get all excited whenever there was a Dylan and Marco episode :D haha and I'm glad you like the long chapters! I was afraid I was making them too long or something ;) **Enchantixfae: **I would love that if he could levitate ;) I wouldn't be surprised either, because he's Marco and he can do anythinggg hahaha :)

**Author's Note: **I was on such a rampage the last couple nights with all these scenarios I had in my head to put in my story, that I probably wrote like six chapters right on the spot ;) haha I just have to edit them a little but don't be surprised about the sudden increase in chapters :)

**Disclaimer: **Again, I own nothing of Degrassi...or the 'Marco/Dylan' relationship...do I really need to say this every time? It makes me sad just to think about it :(

Read and review! Please and thank you! ;)

_The blackness pooled and swirled all around him. He couldn't feel the blinding pain he had moments before, but that was completely fine with him. The only problem was Marco couldn't find Dylan. _

_He reached his arms out all around, trying to find Dylan in the dark but he couldn't. Marco could hear his voice, however, though it was very faint._

_"Oh Marco, no," he heard him cry. "No, no, no!" _

It's alright_, Marco wanted to tell him. _It's fine, _I'm_ fine, please don't worry..._ But he couldn't form the words._

_The dark pushed in more forcefully, and Marco found himself unable to do anything; hear, think, or feel. It was soothing really. No dreams and no problems could get at him now. _

_However after what felt like only seconds, he found himself struggling towards consciousness before he felt the sickening agony. He whimpered to himself, shrinking away from it. He hurried back into the saftey of the dark, and he never wanted to come out._

_However, the longer he tried to hide, the harder it was to stay hidden. Soon voices began penetrating through the sea of black, and he found he recognized them too._

_"Dylan, hon, how's Marco?" Someone asked quietly. He couldn't quite put his finger on the name, but the voice sounded _very_ familiar._

_"He still hasn't woken up yet, and his breathing becomes shallower by the day," a gorgeous voice choked out. "And his heart beat has been getting fainter."_

Dylan_, Marco sighed happily to himself. Whoa, wait, did he say _day_?_

_"He'll be alright Dyl, I promise." the feminine voice assured him half-heartedly._

_"But it's my fault he's in here," Dylan weeped. "It's my fault he did this to him, I should've stopped him!" It broke Marco's heart to hear him so upset. He tried reaching out, to tell him he was fine, but he felt too weak. _

_And then, unexpectedly, all the pain came rushing back._

Marco suddenly gasped, eyes fluttering.

Shock arised on Dylan's face as he leaned over. The tears continued to fall, splattering on Marco's face.

"Dylllll," Marco whined, peering blearily behind his eye lids to look at him. "You're getting me wet."

"Oh my God," Dylan breathed, outstanding relief easily showing through his voice. He didn't know what to do, he was so alleviated. The older boy just drifted his head down and kissed the lips he thought he'd never touch again passionately. Marco, slightly surprised but happy, kissed him back as best he could.

"Mmm," he sighed.

Dylan looked down lovingly at him. "I was scared, Marco. I thought-" Dylan's throat closed up as the tears started to come again. "Well, I thought you'd never wake up."

But Marco only looked confused. "What do you mean I'd never wake up? I wake up every morning." He winced.

Dylan cocked his head to the side, looking puzzling at Marco.

Marco looked suspiciously at him. "Why are you in my room anyway Dylan? I-" he swiftly looked around, surprised and wide-eyed. "Where am I?"

Dylan couldn't help but laugh at his cute, astonished expression, still giddy with relief.

Marco stopped looking around and smiled at Dylan. He loved hearing him laugh. "Hey, uh, could you help me sit up?" His inflicted areas burned with pain, but he hid it the best he could.

Grinning Dylan slowly lifted him up into a sitting position. It was then that Marco noticed Paige standing in the doorway, tears of joy flowing down her face. _That's_ who he heard!

"Paige!" Marco said happily.

"Oh Marco!" she cried, running at him. "You were out for so long I - I tried to keep thinking that you would come back out but...oh, it was hard Marco," she confessed, hugging him as gently as she could, but despite her efforts he grimaced. She smiled tearfully at him, saying, "I have to go pick up Spinner! I'll be right back!" And she flew out of the room.

"So," Marco said, shifting slightly to get more comfortable, cringing. "How'd I end up in here anyway?"

Dylan looked at him cautiously. "You...you don't remember anything?"

Marco frowned, looking at his bandaged and badly abused body. "Well, I remember we were sitting in the living room...and my Pa was sitting in the chair and we were waiting for Ma to come home-" Marco stopped short, looking surprised at Dylan's stony face. The older boy forced a smile, nodding for him to go on.

"And," The Italian boy started again slowly, watching Dylan's face carefully. "I think...I think they got mad at me for something..." he screwed up his face in concentration, struggling to remember. Suddenly Marco's eyes got huge. And scared.

"I told them didn't I?" Marco whispered. Slowly, Dylan nodded, watching his reaction. Marco closed his eyes as it all came flashing back to him.

After several moments Marco's eyes flew open in horror. "It was just like my dream," he muttered, tears flowing down from his face as realization hit him.

Dylan looked at him, shocked. _He _dreamt_ all that?_ the older boy thought incredulously. He looked down at him, eyes full of compassion, but saw that Marco was avoiding his gaze. Dylan placed his fingers under chin but Marco pushed them away, murmuring something about having to sleep, and tried to lie down on his own.

Hurt showed plainly in Dylan's face as he sadly helped him lie down moved away from the bed. But he didn't leave. No, he hadn't left his side for more than a couple of minutes over the course of the four days that he was out. And he wasn't about to start.

So, Dylan sat in the chair he'd been practically living on and watched him. It took longer than he thought, but finally Marco's breathing began to even out.

"Marco!" Spinner yelled, running as fast as he could into the room, Paige following close behind. "Marco...Dylan, where...he is...he's not..." Spinner panted, pointing at Marco's sleeping body.

Dylan gave him a small apologetic smile, saying, "Sorry Spin, you just missed him. He's asleep."

Spinner's excited face fell hard.

"Oh."

Paige rubbed Spinner's arms, "Don't worry honeybee, we'll wait here as long as it takes. Marco'll be _thrilled_ to see you."

Spinner gave her a small smile, nodded, and pulled a chair up next to Dylan, all three silently watching him.

Dylan didn't know how long they all sat together in unison, staring at their friend, but he sensed it had been a while since both Paige and Spinner had fallen asleep on the floor. The nurses had been kind to them and allowed them to stay over-night with Marco, though they warned them they couldn't do that for too long. They did have rules after all.

Dylan had started to doze off until he saw Marco shift under his covers. The older boy's eyes shot open and watched as the Italian boy yawned, stretched, and blindly looked around. He hadn't noticed Dylan, Paige, or Spinner.

Dylan's blue eyes ping-ponged between Marco and Spinner, trying to decide whether to wake him up or not. He knew Spinner was dying to talk to him, but...Dylan was dying to know why Marco had avoided looking at him once he recognized his nightmare had come to life. He felt guilty, but Spinner _was_ asleep...

"Marco?" Dylan whispered.

Marco's dark figure froze, and he quickly shot back under the covers.

"Marco," Dylan said, rolling his eyes though he knew he couldn't see it. The older boy got up silently and walked over to the bed. He pulled back the covers, and, knowing he was close enough for Marco to see him, glared at the younger boy, demanding an answer.

"What?" Marco said indignantly.

"What was that before? Why wouldn't you look at me?" Dylan demanded quietly, slightly angry.

Silence.

"Dylan, I..." And suddenly Marco was crying. He stifled the sound with his pillow but Dylan could see his shoulders shaking, and wincing because his ribs hurt with each breath, and his angry facade melted away instantly.

"Shh, Marco," Dylan comforted, rubbing Marco's back. "Please, just tell me what's wrong."

"It's just," Marco choked out. "My father and mother hate me, Dylan. I have no home. No family. And...w-when I realized my dream had been right about my P-Pa, I just thought that...it would be right about you...that you w-would leave me and...and oh Dylan I don't think I could take that!" he sobbed into his pillow.

Dylan was distraught. Did Marco really think that he meant anything less than the world to him? "Marco...Marco, honey-"

"Just leave me alone Dylan," Marco said, his voice slightly distorted from both the physical and emotional pain, and tried to hide back under the covers.

"No," Dylan said simply, but powerfully as he pulled the covers back from his face. "Marco how can you think that little of me? I-" He paused, eyes full of emotion. "When I saw you on the floor, Marco, lifeless and hurt, I thought I would die of the pain it caused me, right then and there. I could hardly breathe. You...you'd be disappointed in me, Marco, and so would my family, but...if you hadn't pulled through, and you almost didn't, I would've hunted down your father and..." He hesitated, not sure if he should finish that sentence, and started on another. "And...if you couldn't live then...I wouldn't have been able to either. You mean too much to me."

Marco's mouth hung open, shocked. Only one thing that he had said stuck in his mind. _If you couldn't live then...I wouldn't have been able to either_. "Dylan!" Marco all but shouted furiously. Of course Marco felt the exact same way, but he couldn't help but become infuriated with the very thought of someone as wonderful as Dylan taking _his own life_ for someone like him. "You couldn't have...have _killed_ yourself! That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say Michalchuk! And that's saying a lot! What about your hockey career?"

"I would've gladly given it up," Dylan gave him an amused smile.

But that only angered Marco more. "Oh you think you're so funny, don't you?" Marco hissed. "Well what about Paige?"

Dylan shrugged, eyes sparkling mischievously. "She's got Spinner."

"And what about Ryan? Or your parents? Or your coach, or anyone else that's ever known or depended on you?" Marco's eyes narrowed at Dylan's consistantly amused expression.

"None of that matters as much to me as you do, because...I was just thinking-" Dylan paused. _Should he tell him?_

There was a long moment of silence before Marco, sounding exasperated and slightly confused, asked, "You were thinking _what_?"

"I was thinking," Dylan whispered surely, smiling down at his adorably clueless boyfriend and wrapping his arms around his waist. "That I love you, Marco del Rossi. And I always will."

Marco looked at Dylan, mouth hanging open. _Did...Did he really mean that?_

Those dark eyes looked into those crystal clear blue ones, searching. Yes, yes he did.

The young Italian boy smiled wider then he ever had, his previous annoyance evaporated, and said, "I love you too, Dylan. More than you know."

And the kiss that followed was sweet, tender, and loving. But most of all, Marco and Dylan thought happily; the kiss was perfect. And when it ended, and they leaned their foreheads against each other, Dylan felt obliged to tell Marco something that he'd been wanting to say since the day of the fight.

"You know," Dylan whispered in a mock serious voice, eyes twinkling. "Ever since the day you fought with your father, I've been wanting to tell you something very important." Dylan paused dramatically. "You, Marco del Rossi, are _extremely_ sexy when you speak Italian. I was very turned on."

Marco couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing, loudly and with gusto, waking both Paige and Spinner. Though neither Dylan nor Marco noticed.

The Italian boy wrapped his arms more securely around Dylan's neck. "_Beh, sembra che io vado a parlare l'italiano più spesso, __**(Well it looks like I'm going to have to speak Italian more often,)**_" Marco purred seductively into Dylan's ear, sending goosebumps and shivers of pleasure all throughout Dylan's body.

"You guys are _too_ cute!" Paige squealed, making the two of them jump about six feet in the air. "Aren't they too cute, honeybee?"

A half-asleep Spinner, yawned, "Yeah, yeah sure honeybee they are too cute," before flopping back towards the ground, already snoring.

Paige giggled, winked at them, and joined Spinner on the floor, drifting back off to sleep.

Dylan looked down at Marco, grinning, and said, "Would you mind if I joined you, Mr. del Rossi?"

Marco blushed. He had momentarily completely forgotten about his fight with his abusive father and his dream. He pulled Dylan into bed, and Dylan was careful to situate himself so as to not cause Marco any pain. Finally comfortable, they both fell asleep, Marco wrapped in Dylan's warm embrace, and Dylan contently holding the love of his life.

"Is his arm supposed to bend like that?" came a low voice above them. "How can they be comfortable sleeping like that?" It snickered.

"Shh, Spinner! You'll wake them up!" a second, more feminine voice hissed above them.

"Sorry honeybee."

Marco moaned, twisting around to try to fall back asleep, before crying out in pain. Dylan's eyes shot open and he sat up, staring at Marco worriedly.

"_MARCO!_" Spinner cried, not noticing Marco's obvious discomfort, and ran and pulled him into a giant hug. Marco winced, but bit his tongue and smiled at his friend's reaction as he hugged him back as best he could.

Dylan was anxiously watching Marco's expression as he eased himself out of the bed. If there was any sign of pain...

"Spinner has been dying to see you awake," Paige smiled as Spinner grinned down at him, pulling away from their hug.

Marco laughed, his heart as light as air. Until the stabbing pain returned to his side. Marco's cringe was a lot more noticable as all three visitor's expressions wore identical masks of concern.

The young Italian boy saw this, and tried to shrug it off. "Hey, stop looking at me like that, I'm fine," he smiled reassuringly. In truth, however, his ribs, and shoulder were on fire, and his head and every movement ached due to the incredible amount of bruises he sustained. But he wasn't about to let anyone know, least of all Dylan; they had worried more than enough about him already.

"So," Marco said good-naturedly. "When are they letting me out of here?"

"Marco," Dylan said seriously. Unfortunately for the younger boy, Dylan had seen right through him.

"You know, you do that a lot," Marco pointed out quietly.

Dylan rolled his eyes before turning to Paige and Spinner. "Can you guys go get a nurse?" he asked them. "I think some pain killers would do him some good." They nodded vigorously, before giving Marco a smile and headed out the door.

It was Marco's turn to roll his eyes. "You didn't need to do that you know, I'm fine, really."

Dylan gave him a _do-I-look-stupid-to-you?_ look, and Marco gave up resisting. He instead settled back into his pillow and pouted.

Dylan grinned, pushed Marco's hair away from his face, and pressed his lips to his forehead lightly. "You need them," the older boy said genuinely. "And you know you do."

Marco just shrugged indifferently, but a small smile graced his lips. He really did appreciate how much Dylan was caring for him. "Thank you," Marco told him after a couple moments of silence. "For everything."

The elder boy just smiled.

"Okay, here you go Mr. del Rossi," the short-haired brunette nurse said walking into his room. She was carrying a small amount of pills and a glass of water. The nurse winked at him, saying, "I thought you'd like to take these pills instead of getting a shot."

Marco, relieved, beamed up at her as he graciously accepted them both. When he was done the nurse took the cup and left, but not before telling Dylan to come get her if 'the patient' needed any more medicine. Dylan assured her he would, winking at Marco.

Almost instantly the pain killers began working their magic. The searing pain had vanished and everything felt amazing. Marco gave a big sigh of relief, and smiled a lop-sided, goofy smile.

Dylan laughed, "I'm guessing the medicine's working then?"

"Mhmmmmm," Marco sighed blissfully again. Soon enough Marco was fast asleep, savouring the feeling of _not_ being in pain every waking moment.

Dylan just stood there, watching his peaceful face again. Even though he had done the exact same thing for more than half a week, the older boy had yet to get tired of it. He even missed his all-important hockey game to stay by Marco's side. Something his father had greatly disapproved of.

"But I don't see why his _own_ parents can't pay their _own_ son's god damn medical bill." Dylan heard his father complain angrily. He froze, and ducked beneath the windows that allowed the patients to see into the hallway in an effort to hide himself. The older boy crouched down into a half sitting position and strained his ears. _They're talking about Marco._

"John!" Mrs. Michalchuk said disgusted. "_Have you forgotten that they're the reason why he's in here in the first place? _I am not going to just _call up Mr. and Mrs. del Rossi _and-"

"Well why not?" Mr. Michalchuk cried, frustrated. "Why should he be our problem? We've got our own family to take care of, honey-"

"Because incase you haven't noticed, _'honey,'_ your son is in love with that boy!" Dylan imagined his mother pointing into Marco's room as she said that, voice cracking with emotion. "They both have suffered enough thanks to those people and I'll be _damned_ if I'm going to let them back in their lives so they can hurt them again!"

"So where's he going to stay, huh Mary?"

"He'll stay with us," Mrs. Michalchuk replied, jaw set.

"Mary, that _boy_ is holding him back! What's he going to do when he goes off to University or College huh? Bring him with him? No, he's just going to sit in his dorm room all depressed and what not and lose _everything_ he's spent his _entire life working for!_" Mr. Michalchuk shouted, slamming his fist against the wall. Taking a deep breath, he said, "It'll be better if we just cut the line now."

"What the hell is wrong with you." Dylan replied coldly, causing both parents to jump and whirl around. He had stepped out of Marco's room, rage coursing through him. Mr. and Mrs. Michalchuk hadn't noticed them as they were both facing different directions.

Nothing but fury swirled around in Dylan's eyes as he looked at the man he had once respected.

"Dylan, I-"

"How dare you think I can just _cut the line._" Dylan whispered, his voice lethal. It was quiet and controlled, but that only made him so much more terrifying. "And _Marco_ is my entire life, not University. So you better learn to deal with it and soon because he's not going anywhere." Mr. Michalchuk's mouth was hanging open, surprised and furious that his son had the nerve to speak to him like that. Seeing this, Dylan glared at his father before he walked back into Marco's room, wanting to hit something _so_ badly.

His face was angrily set, not moving. This was how Marco found him when he woke up, hours later, still a little lethargic from the pills. Dylan hadn't noticed that he had woken up yet as he was glowering at the wall above Marco.

Surprised, the Italian boy glanced from the wall to the older boy, wondering why he was so furious with it, before he realized how silly he was being. Sitting up slowly, as the pain was starting to return, Marco looked worriedly at Dylan.

When Dylan saw Marco's anxious look, he felt instantly ashamed. Here the younger boy was, worrying about _Dylan_ when he was lying in a _hospital_ bed. The hockey player tried his best to smile naturally at him, but he saw he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Marco.

Those eyes, those dark, loving eyes asked him a million questions all at once, and he didn't know how to respond. Eventually, Marco opened his mouth and whispered, "Dylan, what's wrong?"

Dylan gave him a crooked smile, "Well, you're in a hospital bed..."

Marco rolled his eyes. "I may be temporairily handy-capped Dylan, but I'm not stupid."

He chuckled slightly, but avoided Marco's eyes.

"Don't make me come over there, cause I mean it. I will drag myself out of this bed," Marco threatened, shifting himself around, trying to prove his point.

Dylan's eyes widened slightly with panic before he rushed over to the bed and gently pushed Marco back into a lying position. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you, but you don't need to scare me like that."

Marco's eyes were apologetic, but they were also determined. He meant it when he said he would drag himself over to him.

Dylan sighed, looking away. "I just got into a fight with my dad, okay? It's no big deal." But the way he said that made Marco think it was a _very_ big deal.

"And what was the fight about?" Marco asked suspectingly, grabbing Dylan's hand softly.

Dylan sighed again. "You."

Marco closed his eyes. He knew it.

"He's angry about the medical bill," Dylan confessed. "And about...me and you... and how it'll affect me when it's time to go to University."

Marco stayed silent, mulling everything over. _Maybe his Dad's right_, he thought sadly. _Maybe I am just holding him back_. And as much as Marco wanted to be with Dylan, as much as it would kill him, his love for him was stronger, He wanted whatever was best for his hockey star, even if that meant he wouldn't be a part of it.

His eyes got watery as he kissed his hand, whispering, "Maybe-" but he was cut off.

"No," Dylan said forcefully, almost angrily. "No, I almost lost you once, and I am _not _going to let my _father_ of all things take you away from me again!"

"I'm not saying I want to be, Dyl," Marco tried again. "I'm just want whatever's best for you, even..." Marco choked a little, afraid Dylan would agree with him. "Even if that means..."

There was a moment of silence. "You say you want what's best for me," Dylan said slowly. Marco held him breath. And suddenly the older boy smiled. "And you, Marco, are it."

Marco laughed breathlessly, grinning up at him. There was still one more question that was nagging at him.

"So...when do I get out of here?"


	5. Chapter 5

**alicecullen42: **THANK YOUU! :D haha that just made my day :D

**EnchantixFae:** Can't wait to read your story! :D

**Warning: **Slight language...but if you don't like it just skip over it ;)

Read and Review! :)

* * *

After a little more than three weeks of recovery, Marco was finally able to leave the hospital. His ribs were still in a brace, and his body was still sore, but with Dylan's help he was able to walk out of the building. He wore one of Dylan's warmest sweaters as he walked out into the cold, frosty air. Marco had been cooped up inside for so long that he'd fight through a blizzard just to be outside. And despite Dylan's comforting hand around his waist, and his friends Paige, Spinner, Ashley, Jimmy, Hazel, Craig, Ryan, Alex, and Ellie (who had taken the liberty to visit him just as much as Paige and Spinner, though Dylan still beat them all), Marco was still nervous. His father hadn't been caught by the police and his mother never once stopped by to see him. This broke his heart every time he thought about it. Even though he knew he shouldn't, he wished his Ma and Pa would come back to him. That they would love him again and they could be a family.

He tried to hide it, but Dylan could see how torn up he still was about his parents. Whenever the nurses, doctors, or anyone mentioned it, Marco would avoid their questioning eyes and let Dylan explain the situation; that he would be living at the Michalchuk's residence from now on due to his parents' extreme homophobia. More his father than mother, but still it wasn't like she tried to stop her husband. Dylan wished the younger boy would hate them as much as he did, but he knew that was impossible. You couldn't hate your own parents, as he learned from the fight he had with his Dad. Thankfully, Mr. Michalchuk had apologized to both Dylan and Marco, but Dylan secretly wondered whether he actually meant it. And even though the rest of the Michalchuks refused to allow Marco to feel guilty about the medical bill and everything, the Italian boy did anyway.

Although Marco had been out of school for a little while, Dylan had thoughtfully brought his work to him every day so he wouldn't fall too far behind. Spinner and Craig had also stopped by the del Rossi residence and snuck into Marco's bedroom, not taking care to be silent as no one was there. They grabbed his clothes and other possessions and dropped them off at the Michalchuk's house while Marco was still in the hospital.

"I've only been off my feet for three weeks and I already forget how to walk," Marco grunted, frustrated.

"Oh, stop beating yourself up Marco," Ellie scolded gently. She had taken Marco's hospitalization as a great personal blow. Marco was as good as family to her, and she would've offered him residence at her house if her mom wasn't a complete tyrant. And if Dylan hadn't got to him first. "You're doing _fine_."

"It just feels...weird I guess," Marco told her.

"Hon, you've been in a recovery room for three weeks," Paige said.

"After getting beat up by your father, man, it's _understandable _that you're a little...uncoordinated," Jimmy added in his usual musky voice, pushing himself in his wheelchair.

"Mmm, I guess," Marco murmured absent-mindly. He was too busy wondering where his father was now. He obviously wasn't at home, otherwise the police would've gotten at him; Dylan confessed to him that he'd told the police about his father. Marco has mixed feelings about that.

"Marco?"

_What if he finds me?_ Marco shuddered.

"Marcooooo."

_Would he beat me again? Take it out on Dylan? Maybe...possibly...apologize?_

"Earth to Marco," Dylan whispered in his ear, jostling Marco from his daydream. He had been staring off into space, not realizing that his friends were trying to say their good byes as they had reached the Michalchuk's house.

"Wha-?" Marco stuttered. The look of pure shock on his face made everyone laugh.

"I think Marco needs to take a nap," Dylan smirked, winking at Marco's angry glance.

Craig and everyone else took turns giving Marco a big hug good bye, promising him that they'd visit him as soon as they could.

Grinning, Marco walked inside, with Dylan and Paige's help, when everyone left. Marco groaned as they set him on the couch, closing his eyes. _God that _hurt_!_ Marco thought as his ribs throbbed painfully. However, he opened them and saw Dylan and Paige looking at him worriedly. The younger boy gave them a weak smile, but that only pulled at Dylan's heart more.

"I think he'd be more comfortable upstairs or something," Dylan said, his blue eyes still staring at Marco concernedly.

"But I'm _tired_," Paige complained. Dylan glared at her.

"No, really Dylan, I'm fine here," Marco protested, shifting a little to try to make himself more at rest.

The older boy tried to not roll his eyes before he swooped Marco up gently.

"Dylan!" Marco laughed despite himself, playfully hitting the older boy's arm in dissent. "I'm perfectly capable of walking up the stairs on my _own_."

Dylan snorted, "That is such a lie. You could barely walk on the sidewalk, Marco, and that's a flat, _horizontal_ surface."

Marco couldn't think of a good enough comeback, so he just settled with a giant "Hmph!" as Dylan pushed open his bedroom door with his toe. He layed Marco tenderly on his two-person bed, trying his best not to cause him any more pain.

But, despite his efforts, Marco still grimaced, muttering, "_Ow, delicatamente!__**(Ow, gently!)**_...Okay."

Dylan looked at Marco questioningly and anxiously. Marco forced a smile and said, "Don't worry about it. Now," Marco scooted over slightly and looked adorably up at Dylan. He patted the bed. "Why don't you join me?"

Dylan's uneasy expression melted into a grin as he did just that. He wrapped his arms around his Italian boyfriend, enjoying their blissful moment...

...Until Paige screamed up, "Dylan! Marco! Dinner's ready!"

Both Marco and Dylan grumbled in unison, neither of them wanting to move.

"Dylan!"

"Yeah, yeah, we're coming!" The older boy shouted back. He swiftly pulled Marco into his arms again and practically ran down the stairs. Marco, terrified, clung to Dylan with his eyes closed, and only opened them again when Dylan set him at the table and whispered, "It's over darling."

Paige, Mr. and Mrs. Michalchuk, and Dylan all sat around the table staring at him expectantly. Marco stared nervously back, not sure what to do; he didn't feel quite comfortable eating while everyone was looking at him like that. In fact, he didn't even know _what_ he was eating.

Marco looked down and grinned, seeing chicken noodle soup displayed in front of him. _Of course it'd be chicken noodle soup_ Marco thought, amused.

Dylan smiled at him as they all began eating, wondering what he found so funny.

Marco still regarded Mr. Michalchuk with some apprehension; Dylan regarded his father with some resentment. Everytime he spoke Marco jumped as if expecting anger or ridicule, and Dylan, seeing this, bit back a glare directed towards his father. He hated how his Dad was making Marco feel, but who could blame the boy?

Paige tried to keep the conversation going "So Marco," she smiled at him. "How's it feel to _finally _be out of that boring and stuffy hospital room?"

The Italian boy returned the smile appreciatively, saying, "Amazing dear Paigey. If I stayed there any longer I think they'd have to start making me pay rent."

Everyone except Mr. Micalchuk burst out laughing, who just managed a blanch. They all could almost hear him think, _Might as well have, it's costing a hell of a lot of money anyway_.

Marco looked down at his half-eaten soup and pushed it away, the guilt turning his stomach.

"Marco, eat, you need your strength," Mrs. Michalchuk said, sounding horribly like Marco's mother. But that only made the younger boy's stomach feel more queasy. Clutching his stomach, he muttered a quick, "Excuse me," before he rushed as best as he could to the bathroom. Marco moved with much more ability and haste now that there was an emergency. He threw up noisily as Dylan knocked on the door.

"Marco? Marco are you okay?"

"I'm...fine...just...I'll be out...in a sec..." Marco managed to choke out. He sat up against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to compose himself. That helped somehow. If only people would just leave him alone to die in peace he'd be absolutely fine. Eventually.

"Marco, please, open the door," Dylan pleaded.

_Dammit_ Marco thought, complying to Dylan's wishes as he crawled to open the door. _Do I not have a backbone?_

He sat back against the door-stop, breathing deeply.

When Dylan saw his boyfriend sitting on the cold tile of the bathroom, looking so vulnerable, all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around him and not let anything hurt him ever again. This strong need to protect him was astonishing and a little scary to the older boy. He'd never felt such...love and concern towards another individual before, and it was crazy how much Marco meant to him...and how much he'd changed him.

Marco, eyes still closed, leaned back into Dylan's embrace. "Marco, are...are you sick with something? Do you want to go...?" Dylan trailed off suggestively.

Marco's eyes flew open in horror as he shook his head vigorously. Bad idea. His head spun as he stammered, "No, no more doctors. I'm tired of doctors. Trust me I'm f-"

"Don't say your 'fine' Marco del Rossi," Dylan's tone was threatening. "You are not fine."

There was silence.

"Here, why don't we talk about this upstairs?" Dylan asked softly, scooping Marco up for the third time and carrying him upstairs without waiting for a response.

Dylan settled them down on the bed, but instead of interrogating he just let the Italian boy rest. He'd had a trying experience and he didn't want to pressure him into anything else. When Marco wanted to talk to him, Dylan would be there to listen.

* * *

The sunlight streamed into Dylan's room, waking Marco up from his peaceful dreamless sleep. He groggily peered out from behind his eyelids, shielding his face from the sun's rays with the back of his hand. The younger boy's brain was all fuzzy from just waking up, so he thought, confused, _Where am I?_

Marco suddenly realized that someone's arm was snared around his waist possessively and his head was resting against someone's warm chest. _Dylan _Marco thought happily, snuggling closer to him, and drifting off into a light sleep. Not too soon later though, Marco felt Dylan start to stir. He leaned up and pecked Dylan on the lips, causing the older boy's eyes to open, surprised at first, but then looked down at him happily.

" 'Moring sleep head," Marco whispered, eyes twinklinng.

Dylan admired his boyfriend's tusseled hair and askew clothing before he smiled outwardly at Marco, yawned and stretched, and said, "Did you have a good sleep?"

Marco winked, "Can't complain."

Dylan kissed Marco's forehead gently and sweetly. "Your ribs didn't hurt?"

"Mmm, they were alright," Marco told him, but suddenly winced. "Though I think the pain killers are wearing off."

"Well then," Dylan said as he jumped from under his covers and swooped Marco up in a flourish. "Let me help with that."

Marco giggled as Dylan bounded down the stairs with him. He had him land in a chair softly as he raided the cubboard for Marco's prescription pills.

"Could you be any louder Dylan?" Paige said grumpily, appearing on the stairs and rubbing her eyes. Her straight, blonde hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and she was wearing a light pink robe.

"I could be," Dylan mused, still searching around.

Paige rolled her eyes before turning to Marco and giving him a warm smile. "Did the obnoxious older Michalchuk wake you up too, Marco?"

Dylan stopped for a second to peek his head from behind the cupboard door to glare at Paige before continuing to look for Marco's pills.

Marco grinned, "Actually Paigey, I kinda woke _him_ up."

"Haha, that's a first, usually he's impossible to wake up this early in the morning," Paige remarked, amused. "But then of course, it's _you_ that's doing the waking." She winked at Marco's slight blush.

"Aha!" Dylan cried triumphantly as he pulled the pills out.

Marco laughed as Dylan gave him a glass of water and two pain killers. "What time is it anyway?"

"7:30."

Dylan looked shocked. "Wow," he said, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the clock. "I don't think I've _ever_ been up this early. Unless I had hockey practice or school or something."

Paige smirked. "That's why I was surprised hon. So, what's for breakfast?"

That threw Dylan for a second. "Oh, um..."

Marco jumped up, "I'll make it!" He stumbled over to the stove and turned it on.

Dylan grinned. Marco was an excellent cook. Sometimes he didn't even need a recipe; he'd just look carefully at the food that he had and make something completely original and extremely delicious. It was outstanding at times, what he could do with so few ingredients, but Marco never ceased to amaze him.

Marco had started up the stove and began making omlettes, french toast, and a _lot_ of turkey bacon.

"Planning on feeding an army, hon?" Paige said, looking pointedly at the amount of bacon he was frying.

"I like bacon," Marco replied defensively.

Dylan chuckled as he came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Marco's stomach. He rested his head on his boyfriend's shoulder as he watched him cook. "Mmm, smells amazing sweetheart," Dylan told him and gently kissed his cheek thankfully.

Marco smiled, flipping the french toast over. "It's no big deal. I like to cook."

Paige yawned as she sat down at the kitchen table. "Thank god you do Marco, because I don't know how I could live without your cooking."

Marco laughed as he put the food on three plates and they all sat down to eat.

When they were finished, Dylan and Paige refused to allow Marco to help clean up since he cooked the food for them.

"Dylan, what are you and Marco going to do today?" Paige whispered somewhat worriedly as she started to make herself some coffee.

"Oh...umm" Dylan said, surprised at Paige's tone.

"I think you should do something fun...something to keep him distracted," Paige hurriedly said, keeping her voice low so Marco wouldn't hear her.

"Why-" Dylan started but Paige interrupted him.

"Just look at him Dylan, he's, understandably of course, still upset about the whole situation," Paige told him with concern in her voice.

Dylan looked over at Marco and felt his heart break. Marco was in some sort of a trance as he stared unblinkingly out the window, a pained and sorrowful expression spread across his face. His dark eyes seemed darker than usual as he was inwardly suffering.

Marco couldn't help but think about his parents. All the time. He was so close to them before he came out, and to just lose them just like that...it hurt Marco, a lot, to know that his parents no longer loved him. That they no longer wanted to even bother with him all together, that his _father_ put him in the hospital because of something he couldn't even help. _He might as well have punished me for having dark hair_ Marco sniffed. _Or being taller than him._

Dylan turned anxiously back to Paige. "What do I do?" he cried desperately, but being careful to keep his voice hushed. Hurt showed plainly in his voice as he continued, "I don't know how I can make him forget those bastards that did that to him. I doubt he ever will, but I don't want him to keep things like this to himself. I don't want him to feel them in the first place!"

"Shh, shh, hon, I know you want to help him, for him to go back to the way he was before, but I'm afraid this isn't going to be a quick fix," Paige tried to console him quietly. She glanced back at Marco to make sure he wasn't paying attention before she said, "Dylan, as much as I know you don't want to hear this, there really isn't a lot that you can do for him. He needs to just...forgive and forget on his own-"

"Forgive them Paige?" Dylan snorted, interrupting her. "_I'll_ never forgive them and they didn't even bash me."

"But are they your parents?" Paige retorted. "I heard about what Dad said, and that was brutal, but you forgave _him_. Even though he verbally insulted your boyfriend and threatened to take him away from you. That's basically what Marco's father did only it was a more extreme way of going about it."

"Yeah, by 'extreme' you mean almost kill-"

"Hon. You're not listening to me," Paige said some-what exasperately, removing the coffee pot from its stand. She never was the patient type. "It's easy to hate others if you didn't know them very well, but Dylan, that was his _father_ and they were very close. Same with his mother. If you were in his position I don't think you could hate them either in the end."

Dylan sighed, hating that she made a good point. "So what do I do Paige? Just sit around and watch him suffer like this?"

"No, you try to make his life the best that it can be, despite the circumstances. And I suggest," she said in an air of finality as she stirred sugar and cream into her cup. "That you take him some place memorable. Give him something to look back on with a good light during one of his darkest times."

"If that's not vague-" Dylan started sarcastically, but he was cut off.

"_Think_ Dylan!" she all but shouted at him. "I'm not going to spell it out for you. Just think of a place that has _meaning_ to it!" And with that she grabbed her coffee and stalked off to her bedroom to get ready.

_Just think of a place that has _meaning_ to it!_ It rung in Dylan's ears over and over again as he thought hard. _Place that has meaning to it..._A light went off in Dylan's head. He grinned; he knew the perfect spot. _But what about..._ Dylan observed Marco carefully. He didn't look like he was in any pain..._Best to make sure he can walk first_ he thought. Besides, it would probably be more romantic during the evening anyway.

Feeling giddy, he walked over to a dazed-looking Marco and whispered in his ear, "Tired are we?"

Marco jumped slightly before composing himself and grinned at Dylan. "Not in the slightest."

"Good!" Dylan smiled, pulling Marco to his feet. He wobbled alittle, but he was standing up alright. " 'Cause today we're going to get you mobile again."

Marco gave him a coy smile. "What, getting tired of carrying me everywhere?"

Dylan leaned in close and breathed, "Not even a little bit. But I figured it would be a problem tomorrow when you go back to school."

Marco grimaced. "Ugh, _don't_ remind me."

Dylan snickered. He gave him a quick peck before saying, "Then let's enjoy our freedom for as long as we can."

* * *

"We have one more place to go," Dylan told Marco, who was half awake in his car.

"Mmm? Oh cool," Marco grinned sleepily. They spent the entire day skating, hiking through the slight drift of snow, and just _moving_ in general. His ribs had held up fairly well, Marco noted, satisfied. Though without his intense pain killers it would've been a nightmare to deal with. "Where're we going anyway?"

Dylan's eyes twinkled, "It's a secret."

Marco looked suspiciously at him, before shrugging and closing his eyes. He was exhausted.

Dylan should've been pretty tired himself, but he was too excited to surprise Marco. He figured he'd crash later, but right now he felt like he drank six cups of coffee. Jiggling his foot up and down, he kept glancing at Marco to make sure his eyes were still closed. Part of the reason why they had done so much activity was to see how well his ribs held up, but the other reason was to tire him out so he wouldn't notice where they were until Dylan was ready to show him.

Soon Dylan had pulled the car up to the 'place' and checked to make sure Paige had already left; he had called Paige earlier to make it all special for Marco when they arrived. Thankfully the place Dylan had wanted to take Marco didn't get snow until much, much later in the winter season.

He gently lifted a sleeping Marco out of his seat and carried him through the narrow, forest-y path.

Marco had the weirdest sensation of flying as he slept. Exhaustion from the day's events had overpowered his excitement for Dylan's surprise for him and he had guiltily fallen asleep during the car ride there. He didn't have a dream of flying exactly, he just felt weightless and he couldn't even feel the carpeted floor of Dylan's car. Which was weird, since he couldn't have been anywhere else, right?

Dylan struggled carrying Marco in the sand a little bit, but that was because _everything_ is harder to do in the sand. After much effort, Dylan finally made it to the spot.

"Wake up sleepy head," Dylan said, a smile evident in his voice.

Marco groaned and groggily peeked at Dylan. He was suddenly aware of the sand underneath him, the heat on the left side of Marco's body, and the lack of...a roof.

Marco sat up, shock rippling across his face as he whipped his head around. He was on a beach...but not just any beach either. It was the beach where they had first met. Awe was in his eyes as he looked at the sea shell display that surrounded the two of them, the roaring fire that was in the middle, and the gorgeous sunset.

His eyes watered as he looked at the older boy. "Dylan," Marco whispered, voice cracking with emotion. "It's...it's beautiful Dylan." Marco hugged him, tears falling freely down his face.

Dylan hugged him back, tears appearing in his own eyes as he said, "I love you."

Marco grabbed Dylan's face and kissed him, tenderly, trying to show him how much he loved _him_ through his kiss.

Dylan's brain whirled, making him almost too dizzy to stand it. Marco poured pure emotion into his kiss, teasing him slightly and making him go crazy. Dylan wanted him, right now, and he growled in the back of his throat in longing.

Marco thought he was going to faint, hearing the rumble in Dylan's voice. It was unhealthy, he thought, to love and want someone so much. He started to moan as he kissed him, their tongues dancing together.

And after almost an hour of kissing, they broke apart and rested their foreheads against each other. Suddenly Dylan jumped up, pulling Marco with him. He looked up towards the star studded sky.

Giving Marco a crooked smile that almost stopped his heart all together, he inclined his head towards the beach's shore. "Wanna go for a walk?"

Still slightly breathless, Marco returned the smile whole-heartedly and took Dylan's hand as the older boy lead them to the shore line. They spent a long time walking, picking up shells, and laughing as waves crashed around their feet.

By the end of it, it was nearly past midnight, and they were both impossibly happy and incredibly tired. They dragged themselves back to Dylan's car, holding their newly found shells and each other's hands. When they arrived at Dylan's house, Marco gave him a quick peck, "I can't ever tell you how much I appreciated this. And I never got to tell you, Dylan, but I love you too."

Dylan smiled widely and gave him a short, sweet kiss. Eventually they made their way into Dylan's house and flopped on his bed. Marco was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Dylan pulled Marco up next to him, tucking his soft, black hair under his chin and wrapping his arms around his waist. He pressed his lips against Marco's forehead, and whispered, "Good night, love." And fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

OKay, first of all...

I'M ACTUALLY ABLE TO PUT 2 CHAPTERS UP IN ONE DAY! :D haha

And second of all, I want to tell whoever's reading this that is you want to read another Marco/Dylan fanfiction you should go check out **EnchanticFae**'s very new story called _'Marco A Charmed One'_ and read it! Because I really like where it's going to go :D ahah plus it uses scenes from yours truly which I feel special about :D hehehe ANYWAY

You all know what the Disclaimer is so I don't think it needs to be said again :)

Please read and review! More chapters are likely to be up soon ;) I've been a writing maniac lately haha :)

* * *

The sun glared into Marco's eyes, waking him up seconds before Dylan's alarm went off. They both groaned in unison, neither of them wanting to get up at all. Marco pressed his face deeper into the older boy's chest, trying to block the sunlight out as Dylan's arms tightened around him.

They stayed like that for some time, almost drifting back off to sleep until Paige roared, "Dylan! Marco! Unless you want all of us to be late to school you better get your skinny butts out of bed _right now!_"

Dylan peeled his eyes open to look down at Marco, who peeked back up at him, not wanting to move. But when their eyes met, they both nodded resoundly, stretched, and sat up.

Yawning, Marco sleepwalked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Stripping his clothes off he walked in and tried to wake himself up as best he could, though the hot water didn't really help much.

Dylan was at his dresser, picking out his clothes as he waited for Marco to come out so he could take his shower. He absent-mindly settled on a light blue shirt and jeans, and flopped back on his bed. His eyes began to droop closed until he saw Marco walk in. His wet hair was flat against his head and there was only a towel wrapped around his waist. Marco still looked sleepy, but Dylan, now, was anything but. His blue eyes raked Marco's body with admiration. Marco saw this and grinned as he quickly grabbed his clothes and went back to the bathroom to change. Dylan whistled quietly but loud enough for Marrco to hear, and he laughed on his way out, bumping into Paige as he went.

"My, my, Marco del Rossi, aren't we looking _très bien__**(very good)**_ this morning," Paige teased, looking pointedly at Marco's exposed chest with appreciation. Dylan glowered at her, but she only winked at him as Marco chuckled, tussling her hair as she cried out with protest.

Laughing, Marco ran to the bathroom as Paige chased after him, locking the door. As he got changed, Paige went to her room to quickly grab her brush and take off her robe, and sat down with Dylan on his bed. She was wearing a turquoise, ruched shirt, dark jeans, a gold necklace with matching earrings, and her hair was curled. Dylan stared at her, his eyes asking suspiciously, _Why are you in here?_

"Hon, chill, I'm just waiting for Marco to come out so I can ask him what he thinks of my outfit. He's like, the fashion _god_ and he's in our house. So sue me if I'm going to take advantage of it." Paige shrugged.

As if on cue, Marco appeared wearing a navy blue shirt with a white-blue jean jacket on top, a white shell necklace, and dark jeans. Dylan just barely stopped his mouth from hanging open as he gawked at him; Marco looked amazing.

"Oo la la," Paige cooed, standing up to look more closely at him. She then spread her arms out to her side and twirled. "What do you think?"

Marco observed her in fake criticism for a second, before smiling widely and saying, "Very cute Paigey," and they went off into a discussion about the gold necklace and her shirt, forgetting Dylan momentarily.

Dylan sometimes found himself jealous of the connection Paige and Marco had. They would go off into discussions like this one and leave Dylan completely at a loss of what to say, or what they were even talking about to begin with.

Shaking his head, he went off into the bathroom and quickly began to shower.

Marco, meanwhile, went down stairs with Paige to find Mr. and Mrs. Michalchuk each enjoying a cup of coffee. He flinched a little at the sight of Mr. Michalchuk, and Paige, noticing this, quickly took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly. Marco smiled at her gratefully, before turning his smile to the people who had took him in.

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Michalchuk," Marco greeted pleasantly.

Mrs. Michalchuk smiled warmly at him, "Did you have a good sleep Marco?"

Marco nodded, hesitated for a second, and then said, "I just wanted to say how much I appreciate you guys taking me in like this-"

But he was cut off as Mrs. Michalchuk walked up to him and gave him a hug. "Don't worry about it Marco, we already think of you as family." Marco blushed.

Mr. Michalchuk cleared his throat, "So, um, where's Dylan?"

"Taking a shower," Paige answered him.

"Ah."

Dylan bounded suddenly down the stairs and swooped Marco up in a hug from behind. Surprised, Marco giggled, hugging him back as best he could with his legs in the air. Paige and Mrs. Michalchuk beamed, but Mr. Michalchuk just looked awkwardly at them from behind his coffee cup.

"Hey Dad," Dylan greeted.

"Dylan."

There was a couple seconds of silence before Marco stammered slightly, "S-so...umm do you guys want breakfast? 'Cause I could..." he trailed off suggestively, looking a bit like a lost puppy.

Dylan was staring at Mr. Michalchuk, jaw set, before saying, "No, Marco, I think we'd better get going. You don't want to be late on your first day back."

Paige nodded and grabbed Marco by the hand, quickly pulling him out the front door and leaving Dylan alone with his parents.

"Why do you have to be like that?" Dylan demanded.

"Be like what?" Mr. Michalchuk asked, slightly bewildered.

"Nevermind," he grumbled, snatching all three school bags from the ground. "Just forget it."

Dylan slumped through the door, but put on a smile when he saw Marco's curious eyes. "Ready to go?" the older boy asked brightly.

"Shotgun!" Marco and Paige both cried simultaneously, looking at each other before turning to Dylan for the final decision.

Dylan smirked at Paige and shrugged his shoulders, "Sorry Paige, boyfriend privileges. Marco wins."

Marco grinned triumphantly before running around to the side of the Dylan's car as Paige crossed her arms unhappily and got into the back.

They got to Degrassi just in time, barely missing the final bell as they scrambled to their lockers and homerooms.

Marco snuck into a seat beside Ellie, who beamed at him and said happily, "Marco! I forgot you were coming back today!" She gave him a quick hug.

He smiled at her, "Yeah, I'm finally back at Degrassi. So, what did I miss?" His eyes gleamed mischievously at her.

She looked confused. "What do you mean? I thought Dylan was giving you all your homework and-"

Marco smirked. "I didn't mean schoolwork, El."

Ellie blushed and turned away, pretending to be annoyed with him.

"Come on El, I _need_ details!" Marco pleaded, giving her his famous puppy dog eyes. "I've been completely in the dark for what, three weeks? I think you owe me Nash."

Ellie glared at those eyes, feeling her ressolve start to break. _No one_ could resist his puppy dog eyes.

"Well, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed because there's nothing really to tell," Ellie huffed. "We hung out a bit, watched some movies...and...that's it."

"Nuh-uh. I _know_ that's not all. Did you guys-"

But the final bell rang, giving Ellie an excuse to tune him out. Marco grumbled a bit before turning his attention to the teacher.

* * *

The lunch bell rang and Marco was relieved; he hadn't gotten to see Paige, Spinner, or anybody else much during his morning classes, but thankfully they all had lunch together.

Marco ran to his locker quickly and began depositing his books until a voice Marco hadn't heard for a while sounded in his ears.

"Welcome back to Degrassi Marco," Tim grinned, standing next to him. He looked just like Marco remembered him; since they were in different grades Marco didn't get to see him much. Tim had dark, short brown hair, green eyes, and a bit of stubble on his chin. He had a paler complexion than Marco, but he wasn't all together fair skinned, and was slightly taller than Marco despite him being younger.

"Tim!" Marco said, pleasantly surprised. "How's everything been going with, erm, your family and all that?" He asked this cautiously, since it had always been a tender topic when Tim had stayed at his house a while back. He had left when he found out that Marco hadn't even come out to his own parents.

"Oh, it couldn't be better," Tim assured him. "They finally came around and took me back in, apologetic and everything."

"Tim that's fantastic," Marco beamed, feeling honestly happy for him. He just wished his parents had been that accepting. Marco closed his locker and they started off down the hallway slowly; they didn't have lunch together so they would soon be separating.

"L-Listen, I, uh, I heard about your...your Dad and everything," Tim said hesitantly, noticing the way Marco tensed up a bit. He started stammering, "And I just wanted to say I'm s-sorry that that happened to you. Y-You're really the last person to ever d-deserve something like that, and I'm r-really sorry f-for being angry with you when I...when I found out you...hadn't told your parents...I had no idea they...that they were like that. And I feel horrible f-for judgeing you." Tim hung his head a little, looking ashamed.

"Don't worry about it, really, you had every right to be mad at me," Marco told him sincerely. "I should've been honest with you in the beginning."

Tim put on a hopeful expression as he stopped and turned to look at Marco. "I-I still feel bad, so...so why don't I-" But he was cut off.

"Mr. del Rossi! Mr. Gerallde!" Mrs. Kwan yelled at them. "Shouldn't you two be somewhere?"

"Yes Mrs. Kwan," Marco and Tim muttered together, turning in opposite directions.

_What was Tim going to say?_ Marco wondered, completely clueless. Ah, well, he figured he'd find out later.

"Marco!" Craig, Spinner, Paige, Hazel, Jimmy, Ashley, Ellie and almost the entire cafeteria cried as Marco entered. The younger boy blushed slightly and grinned at them as they all came rushing towards him, his close friends in the lead. They engulfed him in one giant hug, causing the wind to be knocked out of him.

"Can't...breathe..." Marco gasped.

They all laughed as Jimmy remarked, "Hey, okay, he already broke his ribs once, let's try not to do it again."

Chuckling, they released him and allowed him to catch his breath. Ellie grabbed Marco's arms and pulled him over to where they were all sitting. She wasn't a big fan of Paige or the rest of them and vice versa, but since they all wanted to be friends with Marco, they put up with each other for his sake.

"So how's your first day back at Degrassi, del Rossi?" Craig asked, smiling widely at him as they sat down.

"Yeah del Studley," Spinner grinned stupidly, using Marco's old nick-name.

"Pretty good," Marco told them. "Despite, you know, the whole learning aspect of it."

"I saw you talking to Tim today," Ashley suddenly mentioned. "Didn't you say he hated you or something because you hadn't come out to your parents then?"

Marco nodded slowly. "Yeah, he came up to me and apologized for being mad and he heard about what happened...you know...with my dad. And I think he was about to ask me something but Mrs. Kwan appeared out of no where and told us off."

"Huh. I wonder what he was going to ask," Ellie wondered.

Paige smirked maliciously. "I think Tim has the hots for Marco," Paige teased.

"Haha, good one," Marco rolled his eyes. "He can't go from hating to liking in a couple seconds."

"Maybe he never hated you," she replied, winking.

"You're ridiculous," Marco laughed and turned unbelievably to Ellie for back up, but found she was biting her lip. "What? You actually think she's right?" he asked her, now even more flabbergasted.

"Well...she might be, I mean, it was pretty obvious he _did_..." Ellie told him.

"Sure, fine, maybe he did _then_," Marco conveyed. "And I'm not saying he did, but even if, he definitely doesn't _now_. I mean, why would he? I pushed him into doing something _I _didn't even have the guts to do, and got him kicked out of his own house. Why would he still like me _if_ he even did in the first place?"

"Hon, you don't just grow out of a crush like _that_," Paige responded snapping her fingers, sounding serious about this now. "It's very possible that he could still like you."

Spinner, Craig, and Jimmy had all silently and simultaneously decided to stay far away from this conversation and had started their own up about sports. It had nothing to do about them being gay; even if their friend were straight they would've stayed far away from this sort of chat.

"You guys are insane," Marco announced, looking crazily at them. "Besides, why would it even matter if he did anyway? In case you haven't noticed I already have a boyfriend."

"_We_ know, Marco," Hazel told him. "But the problem could be that _he_ doesn't. Or," she added curiously. "Maybe he _does_ know but wants to break you guys up so you can go out with him."

"Or maybe," Marco scoffed. "You guys just have an over-active imagination."

Ellie shrugged. "You never know Marco."

Marco shook his head at them. He still had money for lunch in his pocket but after that discussion he really didn't have much of an appetite. "So what are you suggesting I do? Walk up to him and go, _'Hey Tim, don't get any funny ideas because I have a boyfriend,' _?"

"Nooo," Ashley said, stringing the word out. "You don't need to just walk up to him and announce it. Just...if he asks tell him, or don't be afraid to act all lovey-dovey with Dylan when Tim's around."

"Hmm. Maybe I should tell Dylan," Paige mused.

Marco glared at her. "Don't even think about it. He'll just get all worked up over nothing like you guys are."

Paige shrugged. "Fine, I won't say anything."

Marco gave her a small smile before saying, "Good."

The lunch bell rang, and they all scurried to their classes. Marco at ease, but Paige, Hazel, Ashley, and Ellie wondering slightly if their conversation actually had some truth to it.

* * *

Finally the school day ended, and Marco tiredly walked up to his locker and began shoving books into it.

"And how was Mr. del Rossi's first day back?" a lovely voice asked from behind him.

Marco turned and smiled into those bright blue eyes, "Better now."

Dylan grinned as Marco went to shut his locker until another voice invaded their ears.

"H-Hey, Marco," Tim greeted, looking curiously at Dylan.

Marco looked happy to see him, and Dylan's gaze flickered between Marco and Tim.

"Tim!" Marco declared before noticing Dylan and Tim's politely wondering gaze towards each other. "Oh, Dylan this is my friend Tim. Tim, this is my boyfriend Dylan." Marco smiled, glad he had gotten that out in the air.

Dylan nodded in acknowledgment, a little suspicious as both Marco and Dylan noticed how Tim looked crushed at the mention of Dylan being Marco's boyfriend.

"W-Well, I, uh...I gotta go," and Tim turned and walked away, leaving Marco to watch after him, worried and confused.

Dylan felt a twinge of suspicion at the concern in Marco's eyes. Slowly Marco shut his locker, before he and Dylan left to find Paige.

Marco had abandoned his distressed look and just walked cheerfully beside Dylan. The older boy mimicked Marco and continued to try to look upbeat, though his thoughts whirled. _Who was that Tim guy anyway? How does he know Marco? Does...does Tim...like Marco? Nah, he can't be gay, can he? But if he is...does Marco...? Wait, hold up, why am I so worried? So Marco may possibly have a secret or not so secret admirer, that doesn't mean I have to turn into a raging, jealous monster..._ That line of thinking worked for all of five seconds before more questions started whirling through Dylan's mind. _Why have I never heard of him before? Surely if they were friends I would've met him, right? Unless Marco was hiding him from me...But why would he do that?_ Dylan was going crazy. The worst part of this thinking was the uncertainty. If he just _knew..._

He barely noticed they had made it to his car. Thankfully Marco and Paige were absorbed in some conversation and appeared to not have noticed Dylan's temporary mental lapse. Dylan hopped into the driver's seat and Marco slid in beside him. He knew he'd have to ask Marco about Tim, he'd crack if he didn't. _But maybe someone else would know?_ he thought, quickly glancing at Paige in his rear view mirror. She'd probably laugh at him, as he was most likely getting all worked up over nothing, but he could handle that. He just had to know...

The question was...when would he ask her? Marco and him were inseperable...how could he ask Paige without Marco being in the room too?

Dylan pulled up to their house, still thinking desperately before Paige came to his rescue. "Dyl, hon, can you just drop Marco off here and take me to the Drug Store? I need more makeup."

Dylan tried to look indifferent as he glanced at her in the mirror and shrugged his shoulders, but there was something in his sister's eye that made him sure she knew what he had been thinking. Dylan turned to wink at Marco, "I'll be right back."

Marco, lightning fast, kissed him hard and quickly before whispering in his ear, "_Affrettatevi indietro __**(Hurry back)**_, love," and got out of the car. Goosebumps had erupted on his skin, he smiled as widely as he could, and his cheeks were pink. All the expected after-effect of being in the presence of Marco del Rossi.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he saw Paige smirk and shake her head. Slightly embarrassed, Dylan muttered, "Shut up Paige," and headed towards the Drug Store. When they arrived, they got out in silence and Paige navigated her way towards the make-up section at the back of the store. Thankfully, no one was in the section that Paige had walked over to.

Dylan had no idea how he'd go about asking her about Tim. It was one of those moments where the silence was so thick it made your tongue heavy and unwilling to move.

He cleared his throat, hoping that would help him get started.

"This is about Tim isn't it?" Paige said suddenly, opening a test-tube of liploss and rubbing it on her finger before applying it to her lips.

Dylan only gaped at her.

She turned around and looked at him, smiling a little smug smile. "Did you really think you were that inconspicuous when we were walking back to your car? We both knew something was up." She noticed Dylan's panicked look before she said quickly, "Marco doesn't know, hon. I only figured that was what's wrong since he said you started looked a bit concerned after Tim ran off." Paige shook her head smiling. "I suppose he figured you were worried about Tim's well-being or something ridiculous like that. He can be _so_ naïve sometimes, but I guess that kinda helped you out here."

Dylan took a deep breath as Paige moved on to the eye shadow. "It's just that...Tim just seemed to come out of _no where_. I have no idea who he is or how he knows Marco. I don't even know if..." he paused, lowering his voice. "If Tim is even straight. The way he looked at Marco...I dunno I kinda think he likes him."

Paige rubbed some light pink eye shadow on her hand, studied it carefully, before answering, "The first thing you should probably know, is that Tim _is_ gay."

Dylan nodded his head. He wasn't altogether surprised by this, but that didn't help his mood.

"Tim and Marco met before you two started going out," Paige picked up two different shades of pink, trying to decide between the two. "But after you helped Marco become comfortable with his sexuality. Tim was like the replacement Marco, and Marco became the replacement you."

She picked the lighter shade of the two pinks, and turned around to look at Dylan with sympathetic eyes. "He was scared, Dyl, everyone had rejected him. You should be proud of Marco, though, he saved Tim from getting brutally pounded on by his so-called friends. He picked him up and set him back on his feet. Nudged him gently into the right direction, tried to get him to accept him for who he was. Unfortunately," Paige hesitated. "The only way he could get Tim to fully become comfortable with himself, and Marco badly wanted him to, was to lie and say he had come out to his parents. To prove that everything could, and would be okay."

Paige continued on her make-up hunt, peering at two different types of mascara. Dylan numbly wondered what the big difference was between _Maybelline_ and _Covergirl_ mascara (they were both did the same thing right?), before he began listening closely to Paige's story again.

"So, of course, Tim listened to Marco and came out to his parents. And as you can imagine, it didn't go so well."

"What, they beat him up?" Dylan scoffed. He did feel bad for Tim, but he was still a little peeved that Tim was trying to worm his way into Marco's life. He figured he was being completely absurd and unfair, but he couldn't help it; he was the jealous type.

Pauge looked at him reproachfully. "No, but they did kick him out."

"Well, where'd he go?" Dylan asked.

"Marco let him stay at his house," Paige answered him. "He told a white lie to his parents, saying that Tim got kicked out because his parents didn't approve of him acting in the school play. Of course that caused some confusion with Tim, and eventually everything spilled out. Tim discovered that Marco lied about him coming out to his parents, and his parents found out that for at least a week they had housed a gay person. Or should I say another gay person, though they didn't know that at the time," Paige added. She chose the _Covergirl_ mascara and quickly started to look through the foundation and cover-up.

Lightly dusting both choices on her cheek and looking in the mirror to find the right shade, Paige continued, "Tim felt betrayed, so he left, leaving Marco to feel horrible about what he'd done-"

"But Marco didn't really do anything wrong!" Dylan instantly interupted, getting a little heated. "He was trying to help him-"

"Dyl, I know that and you know that, but the point is Marco and Tim didn't know that," Paige said slowly, trying to calm him down. "So Tim left, and Marco barely saw him up until today. Tim apparently had heard about Marco and his father, and understood why Marco hadn't wanted to come out to him. He apologized to Marco, no doubt feeling bad for the way he'd treated him. And from my understanding, Marco was more that happy to accept it."

"Why would Marco-" Dylan started to ask.

"Hon, Tim and Marco were pretty much inseperable. I know this might hurt, but they had _a lot_ in common with each other. Wouldn't you be willing to bring someone who was that close to you back into your life?"

That hit Dylan right in the heart. He looked sadly at Paige, who quickly began up again. "But there wasn't any romantic feelings, at least not on Marco's part." She smiled at him. "Marco was crazy about you, and if Tim couldn't break up that feeling then when you guys weren't even a couple, do you honestly think he could manage to do it now, when you two _are_ going out?"

That actually made Dylan feel better. He gave Paige an appreciative smile as she walked over to the check out line with her items. When they got into the car, Paige hesitated slightly, before blurting out, "I do think you need to keep an eye on Tim, though."

Dylan stopped midway into starting up the car. He turned around in his seat to look curiously at her. "Why's that? By the way you described him he seems harmless-"

"I know that's how he seems, but-" she paused, biting her lip. "I think he did have a serious crush on Marco, and though he seems harmless...I don't know I get the feeling that he can be very ambitious and...aggressive to get the things he wants. I heard that's how he got the role in the play, back when Marco was helping him. He eliminated his competition and used his cuddly outward personality to cover and protect his butt. I could be just severely over-reacting, but...I think it would be good to just keep an eye on him."

Dylan's eyebrows knitted together, and he nodded, turning back around to start up his car. Tomorrow he was going to keep a careful watch on how Tim acted, as, he assumed, would Paige and anybody else she wanted to tell.

Tomorrow, Dylan was going to put Paige's suspicions to the test.


	7. Chapter 7

"I'll meet you at your locker after school," Dylan promised, smiling as he leaned over to kiss Marco gently.

Marco's dark eyes gleamed happily as they got out of the car and walked to their lockers.

Tim approached Marco as he was putting his stuff away.

"H-Hey Marco, sorry about yesterday, I-I just had a dentist appointment I forgot about," Tim lied, hoping he sounded convincing.

Marco turned and smiled at him, "Hey, yeah, no problem Tim."

Tim continued, grinning nervously, and wishing he was able to string two words together without stammering. "A-about yesterday t-too, before Mrs. Kwan started freaking out on us, I-I w-was about to a-ask if-"

"Marco, buddy," Spinner greeted, clapping Marco's shoulder as he gave Tim a hard look. _That scum bag,_ Spinner thought disgustedly. _Who the hell does he think he is?_ Paige had taken the liberty to fill him in last night, and Spinner didn't take it too well. He still felt horrible about the way he had treated Marco when he first found out he was gay, and he'd sooner learn to fly then let someone _else_ try to ruin it for him.

"Hey Spin," Marco said, turning to look at him, a bit bewildered, but smiling all the same.

Tim glared right back at Spinner, as Marco wasn't looking at him. He knew what Spinner was trying to do, and he wasn't going to settle for it.

"So Marco, I wanted to know if we-"

"Hey, shouldn't you be running along, Tim?" Spinner asked loudly, effectively cutting him off. "The bell's about to ring isn't it?"

"I will once I ask Marco something," Tim replied, forcing a smile.

"No, I really think you should go now," Spinner's eyes glinted menacingly as he started to steer Marco towards his homeroom. "Good bye Tim."

"Um, alright, I'll talk to you later Tim, okay?" Marco called.

"Yeah, definitely," Tim put on a natural smile, but a little bit of hurt swirled around in his eyes. He achieved what he wanted, as he saw Marco look concernedly at him again before Spinner dragged him into the classroom.

Tim shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling pleased with himself as he strolled to his homeroom. Soon, he'd have Marco right where he wanted him. To hell with _Dylan_, Tim scoffed to himself. Marco would be his soon enough, whether Dylan, Spinner, or the rest of Marco's so-called friends liked it or not.

If only he could have the guts to ask him...

* * *

"If I talk to you, will I get harrassed by one of your friends again?" Tim asked teasingly as he approached Marco again at his locker.

Marco looked at him and laughed, putting his last book in his locker and shutting it. "I'm sorry about what happened with Spin, I don't know what was wrong with him this morning."

Tim smiled at him, nervous beyond belief. "It's n-no problem, M-Marco But I-I _was_ h-hoping I c-could ask you something?"

Smile still in place, Marco looked questioningly at him, wondering why he sounded so anxious. "Sure, Tim. Fire away."

Tim's face flushed slightly as he looked away from those dark, beautiful, glittering eyes. "I-um...I...was just..." Tim eventually sighed, defeated. "It's...not important."

Marco cocked his head slightly to the side, observing Tim wonderingly as he said, "Alright, I guess. But if you ever change your mind, let me know okay?" Marco smiled at him before turning away and walked down the hallway towards Dylan's locker. His pace was quickened as he realized he was a bit late; no one else was in the hallways.

Tim stared after him, sorely wishing it was to him that Marco was practically running to. Well, that and that he had the nerve to actually ask him what he'd been wanting to for some time. Tim sighed again before heading out one of the school's side-doors.

Marco scurried along the tiled hallways towards Dylan's locker. He saw him leaning precariously against it, a worried expression plastered on his face.

Dylan was too busy wondering where Marco could be that he didn't notice when Marco was almost in arms reach of him. _Is he with Tim?_ Dylan pondered. _What if he's hurt? _Dylan's sensible side suddenly kicked in. _Stop being stupid Dylan, he's just late._

"Dylan?"

Dylan jumped out of his skin as he whirled around to see who had spoken. His shocked expression turned to a wide smile as he saw Marco grinning at him, amused.

"You alright there?" Marco asked, his lips quivered to keep from laughing.

Dylan fixed a politely interested look on his face as he asked, "Actually I'm looking for my boyfriend. He's about your height, dark hair, cute. A little late though." Dylan gave him the smallest of winks.

Marco gave him an apologetic look and took Dylan's hand in his. "I'm sure he had his reasons," Marco smiled, gently squeezing Dylan's hand. "And that he's very, very sorry."

Dylan grinned as they walked to the car. Paige was already waiting impatiently in the back seat, arms and legs crossed as she jiggled her foot. Before they got in, however, Dylan turned to Marco with sudden inspiration. "Hey, I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of my house. Do you want to go out tonight? Maybe see a movie?"

Marco's face lit up. "Yeah! Yeah that sounds awesome."

Dylan beamed at Marco as he got into the driver's seat, all worries about Tim momentarily forgotten.

"Finally!" Paige cried, annoyed.

Marco just turned around and winked at her, forgetting about Tim himself.

When they got home, Paige made a grumbling Dylan take her back out again to look for a purse she'd had her eye on for some time. Kissing Marco lightly on the cheek, Dylan promised he'd be back as soon as he could.

Marco looked longingly at him as he left. Sighing, the younger boy jumped lightly up the stairs to his and Dylan's room. As he entered, the first thing he noticed was his guitar in the corner of the room. Surprise rippled across Marco's face as he gazed at it; he hadn't seen it for some time as he had left it in Craig's garage at their band's last practice.

Joyfully, Marco ran to it. There was a note signed by Craig explaining how he had just noticed that Marco has left it there, and had dropped it off earlier this morning. Tossing the note aside, the Italian boy picked it up tenderly and let his fingers feather down the 'neck.' Marco tested the strings lightly, feeling them vibrate and hearing the sound they made. The Italian boy had been wanting to play his guitar for _so_ long, that he took no time to tune it properly and begin to play, making up the tune as he went along.

Marco stopped suddenly, feeling the names of the chords he wanted to play bounce around in his head and he figured he should write them all down.

Picking up a pencil and sheets of paper, he began to scribble quickly and messily, in an effort to get them all down before he forgot them.

When he was done, Marco looked thoughtfully at his work. It was a short melody, sure, but the young boy liked it, and he felt it deserved a name. He began playing it, eyes closed and feeling it out. What kind of message did it bring?

As he played and replayed it, his imagination tried to form a scenario, but all that appeared in his mind was Dylan's mesmeric face. At the beginning, when the tune sounded happy, he saw Dylan's face. When it became more melancholy and slow, he saw Dylan, and he fancied he shouldn't try to fight it. Obviously the song was meant for him. And as the beat picked up, he now pictured himself alongside Dylan, living, as said in all the fairytales, happily ever after.

Marco's eyes flew open as the name unfolded in his head. Smiling he closed his eyes again and started over, humming along to the tune.

* * *

"I don't understand why we had to go to _three different stores_ just so you could find pop in and see if they had that Goo-something purse, which neither of them had!" Dylan said grumpily as he pulled into their driveway. "Why didn't you get it yesterday anyway? We were already out."

"Hon, first of all it's a _'Gucci'_ purse," Paige replied patiently, pulling out a file for her fingernails as they got out of the car. "And I only just saved enough for today, courteousy of our dear parents. And I think it goes without saying that it's, like, a _must-have_ accessory." Paige blew on her fingers lightly, going on to the other one as Dylan unlocked the door, rolling his eyes. He never would understand girls' obsessions with stuff like that.

As he flung the door open, they both stopped as they heard music coming down from upstairs. Dylan looked momentarily confused, until Paige smiled and said, "It sounds like Marco found his guitar."

Dylan looked at her in awe. He'd never actually heard Marco play the guitar before, as his band had opted out of having an audience during practice.

"He's...he's...wow," Dylan stammered quietly.

"And by the sounds of it," Paige continued, her smile widening by the second as she looked smugly at Dylan's awestruck expression. "He wrote that himself."

Dylan started up the stairs, badly wanting to see Marco in action. He creeped up to their bedroom door and opened it silently.

Marco looked so beautiful sitting on Dylan's bed, softly strumming his guitar with his eyes closed. The sun was shining through Marco's dark hair, illuminating half of his face and shadowing the other. Dylan could faintly detect Marco's gentle, lovely voice humming along to the tune that his fingers conducted.

The older boy tip-toed in, doing his best to not disturb him. However Dylan's mere presence alerted Marco, and his eyes flew open in surprise as he simultaneously stopped midstrum. The younger boy locked his dark eyes with Dylan's gleaming blue ones.

"No, don't stop," Dylan whispered almost urgently as he sat on the bed with him.

Marco nodded and obeyed, a slight smile gracing his lips. He closed his eyes yet again and began from the beginning, humming more loudly this time.

Dylan's eyes never left him as they flirted between Marco's strumming hand and his gorgeously placid face. He didn't want to interupt him, but he _badly_ wanted to know what it's name was.

"Did you," Dylan said in an extremely hushed tone, almost impossible to make out. "Did you give it a name?"

Still playing, Marco answered him, "_La Loro Lieto Fine._ It means _'Their Happy Ending,' _but," Marco opened his eyes now to looked at Dylan. "I wrote it for you."

Dylan looked beyond touched. He felt like he had spontaneously forgotten how to use his mouth, but Marco only smiled at him before closing his eyes again. The younger boy seemed to be satisfied with Dylan's answer, or lack there of.

Dylan didn't know how he was going to even begin to show the Italian boy how much this little act meant to him. It was such a beautiful melody, and Marco had said it was written for him. Not anyone else. Just him.

Marco finished his last note and opened his eyes again. Dylan's blue ones were on fire. He leaned over, tangled his hands in Marco's gloriously soft black hair, and kissed him tenderly and lovingly. He tried to convey his love, thankfulness, and every other emotion possible to Marco.

One hand still clutching his beloved guitar, Marco kissed Dylan back just as emotionally, his free hand gently running along Dylan's jaw line. Dylan moaned softly at the back of his throat, one of his hands falling to rest on Marco's waist.

They kissed for what felt like ages, but in a good way. Neither of them wanted to stop, but when the need for oxygen became over-powering, they just rested their foreheads easily against each other, breathing hard.

As Marco gazed into those gem-like saphires of his, he felt himself fall in love with the boy all over again. How that was possible, Marco had no idea. He just knew.

They both had completely forgotten about their movie plans, school, family, everything as they layed back on the bed. Everything but each other.

And as Marco drifted off to sleep in Dylan's warm embrace, he mildly wondered how he ever got to be so lucky.

Dylan, however, was not ready to fall asleep just yet. Gently running his hands through Marco's thick, feathery black hair, Dylan looked down at the sleeping figure in his arms. His eyes glided over the soft angles and curves of his face. Feeling the rhythm of Marco's steady heartbeat and his even, deep breathing.

He truely believed it was the single most achingly beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. Dylan felt as if he could never possibly get enough of the young boy lying beside him.

He kissed Marco's hair as gently as he could, nuzzling his face into it before he whispered, "I love you, Marco. More than you'll ever know." And with a small smile playing on his lips, and a final run of his fingers through the boy's hair, Dylan contently fell asleep.

* * *

Paige stomped up the stairs angrily to find Marco and Dylan; she had been calling their names for the past five minutes to tell them to come down for dinner. The younger Michalchuk hated it when Dylan ignored her like that, but really, did Marco seriously have to play along?

She burst through the bedroom door, saying, "Dylan Michalchuk you insanely den-" she stopped short. Paige looked silently and smugly at them. Dylan's arms were wrapped tightly around Marco's middle and his head was resting on the top of Marco's. Marco, on the other hand, had his face buried in Dylan's chest along with one of his arms, while the other was limply clutching the neck of his guitar. They looked _so_ cute!

Smirking, Paige left the room, careful to not make a sound, and ran to her room to retrieve a camera. Making sure the flash was off so she wouldn't startle them awake, she began clicking maniacally away. Afterwards Paige closed the door as quietly as she could and snuck back down stairs.

Flipping through the photos on her way down the steps, she deleted the ones she liked the least until she was left with one amazing picture. The reddened sunlight that was poking through the curtains glowed through Dylan's blonde curls and the back of Marco's black hair. They looked so snug together, so comfortable lying there.

"Mom!" she shrieked softly, running to where Mrs. Michalchuk was poking the chicken she was making. "Mom, Mom, Mom!"

"What Paige? Where's Dylan and Marco?" Mrs. Michalchuk asked, a little annoyed.

"Look at this," Paige said excitedly, brandishing her camera.

"Oh, they look so cute!" Mrs. Michalchuk grinned at Paige, and then back at the picture.

"I know! We _need_ to print this picture."

"What picture Paigey?" Mr. Michalchuk asked, smiling in greeting as he had just come home.

Mr. and Mrs. Michalchuk sat down at the dinner table as Paige skipped over to her father. "Look! It's Dylan and Marco! Aren't they adorable?"

Mr. Michalchuk glanced at the picture awkwardly before he turned to his wife and said, "Can you pass the chicken, Mary?"

* * *

Tim spottted Marco at his locker the next morning, giddily taping something to the inside of his locker. _Okay,_ he thought nervously, trying to calm himself down. _Just walk over to him and ask him. Who cares about Dylan right?_ Tim worriedly thought about the high possibility that Marco would say no. _I'll just keep trying. He can't say no forever right? Besides, what does Dylan have that I don't? _Tim snorted. _We have a lot more in common than those two, and Dylan's going to be leaving him at the end of the year anyway._ His heart soared at that fact. That would _definitely_ be an effective leverage he could pull on the Italian boy. Surely he'd rather cut the line now than wait until later and suffer more, right?

Marco, grinning stupidly, was taping the picture up to his locker that Paige took the other night. The younger boy placed it strategically at the back of his locker so that people at a single glance would not notice it. He, however, would since he knew where to look. Dylan and Marco each took a copy to put in their lockers. Everyone at Degrassi knew about him and Dylan, though, since the incident with his father. But Marco would rather not take the chance of having it destroyed because of other homophobics who might try to break into his locker.

"Um, M-Marco?" Tim asked quietly, trying and failing to see what Marco was putting up.

"Oh, hey Tim!" Marco turned around and blinded Tim with his warm smile. "What's up?"

"Oh, uh, n-nothing much," Tim rocked back and forth on his feet slightly, looking away and reminding Marco of a little kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

Marco gave him a curious look; he was acting sort of strange. "Anything the matter?" he asked.

"N-no, nothing's the matter," Tim said evasively as he tried to give Marco a convincing smile. It didn't work.

"Tim," Marco said reproachfully. "You can trust me you know, I won't go blabbing to everyone."

"I know!" Tim hurriedly said. "It's just," he sighed. Leaning close so Marco could hear, Tim whispered, "There's this guy that I kinda, sorta really like. But I'm not sure he likes me back."

Marco forced himself to not go 'awww' as he figured this was awkward enough for the poor boy. "Why do you think he won't like you? I mean, who wouldn't?"

Tim blushed, looking away and muttering, "I'm pretty sure he likes someone else."

Marco gave him a sympathetic look. "How can anyone not like you, Tim? You're smart, funny," Marco winked. "Cute. And you do like the theatre, which I think is a major plus for anyone."

Where as Marco had said this in the way a friend would compliment another who had low self-esteem, Tim saw this as flirting.

Tim grinned and fluttered his eyelashes in what he hoped would be a seductive way. "Why thank you," he purred, stepping closer to him.

Marco suddenly felt uncomfortable. _Stop being stupid,_ Marco scolded himself. _He doesn't like _you! _You're just over-reacting. Majorly. As usual._

He just smiled and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling, saying, "No problem, buddy." He shut his locker door and said, "I gotta get to class, see ya later Tim."

But when he turned to leave, Tim snagged onto Marco's sleeve, looking at him with intense eyes. The Italian boy glanced at his ensnared arm before looking at Tim in a confused and wary way.

Craig was walking to his classroom when he saw Tim grab a hold on Marco. Reading the caution and disturb in Marco's eyes, Craig hurriedly hop-skipped to Marco's side. Paige had warned him about Tim the other day, and he knew what Tim was trying to do.

"Hey del Rossi!" Craig greeted, pretending to look surprised at seeing him there as Tim quickly let go of Marco's shirt. "Did you get your guitar yesterday?"

Marco beamed at him gratefully. "Yeah I did! Thank you _so_ much, I would've most likely died if I never found it." He laughed.

Craig grinned back. "Hey, you should probably go to class before you get written up or something." He gave Tim a threatening look, one Marco didn't pick up on. "You should too, Gerallde."

Tim nodded stiffly, glaring slightly at Craig before he smiled at Marco and said, "I'll talk to you later Marco?"

"Yeah, yeah see ya Tim," Marco replied as Craig threw an arm around his shoulders in a friendly hug before taking off in his classroom's direction.

_Was it just me or what that a lot more awkward then it used to be?_ Marco thought as he sat down at his seat.

"What happened?" Ellie asked, noticing the puzzled expression on his face.

Jerking out of his thoughts, he smiled at her and said, "Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?" He bit his lip slightly, but continued to tell himself he was being an idiot. Tim _couldn't_ have meant him. He didn't see the younger boy that way, Tim was just his friend. At times he thought of him like a little brother that he needed to help and protect, but no. Nothing like that. And he was _positive_ Tim didn't see him that way either.

Ellie shrugged; she didn't feel like pressing him for answers today.

* * *

Tim wore a slightly embarrassed expression as he walked to his homework. He had been _sure_ Marco was flirting with him! Why else would he have called him cute, funny and smart? _To boost your confidence maybe? _His thoughts suggested. Tim's heart sank. What if that was right?

_Nah, it can't be,_ Tim thought surely, trying to make himself feel better. If it wasn't for that stupid Craig...butting in like that. Tim felt a surge of anger course through him. He _almost_ had Marco, that he was positive of. If Craig had just left them alone, Marco would've been his.

_But then there's Dylan,_ his mind pointed out.

Ah, Dylan.

That stupid, girl-faced jerk. The only thing Dylan had that Tim wanted was his boyfriend. He wasn't jealous of anything else. _Face it, _Tim snorted. _They're never going to last. Since when did Marco go for those kind of guys anyway? He's such a stupid loser. I hate him. _Suddenly, while he was furious and embarrassed, he saw the person he had been thinking about at that moment.

Dylan.

* * *

Please review! And, again, sorry if any translations are wrong haha.


	8. Chapter 8

**ellielovesdtng: **YAY! :D haha thank you so much! You have no idea how big of a motivation boost these kind of reviews are :D

So, here's the next Chapter!

Please read and review! :D"Hey, _Michalchuk_," Tim called at him, sarcasm thrown into Dylan's last name.

* * *

Surprised, Dylan looked around after placing the last book in his locker and his gaze landed on the guy he'd met before at Marco's locker. Tim. His eyes hardened a bit, but after last night, he had no reason to feel jealous.

He smiled, "Tim. Shouldn't you be in homeroom or something?"

"Screw homeroom," Tim spat, full of envious rage. Dylan was take aback by Tim's tone. Walking up to the older boy until they were less than a foot apart, Tim narrowed his eyes and snarled, "I'm going to make this really simple. You're going to break up with Marco."

Dylan placed a sarcastic smirk on his face. "Really? And what makes you think I'm going to do that?"

"You like Marco a lot don't you?" Tim asked maliciously.

Dylan nodded, not sure where he was going with this.

"And you want what's best for Marco, right?"

Again, Dylan nodded.

"Then hear me out," Tim began. "You're leaving at the end of this year to go to University or College(1) or whichever. You're going to end up leaving Marco for weeks, most likely months at a time. Why would you want to put Marco through that kind of anguish? If you really cared for him, you'd let him go. Let him be with someone else, someone who _could_ be there for him when it's his turn to go off to University."

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do that for him, eh?" Dylan asked, slightly amused.

"Yeah, actually. I can make up my credits during the summer, and graduate with him when the time comes. _I_ won't leave him."

Dylan stared at him for a couple seconds, letting that all sink in. And then he burst out laughing. "Oh, man! You're ridiculous," Dylan chuckled, wiping his eyes. Sure, he was being a cocky jerk, but he honestly didn't think Tim's argument was very strong. Or that he was that nefarious to actually try anything on Marco. He was just a little kid, right?

Wrong.

Tim glared at him furiously. He took a big step forward and shoved an unguarded Dylan into the lockers. He was some-what satisfied to see the shocked expression on Dylan's face. "Fine," Tim growled menacingly. "I was trying to spare you, but fine. Just don't come crying to me when you find out Marco's been cheating on you. Or left you. For someone better."

Dylan was beginning to get a little steamed now. Who does this guy think he is? "Listen, buddy-"

"Just watch out, Dylan. Next thing you know, Marco will be in _my_ bed-"

Dylan shot forward, grabbing Tim by the collar. "Listen you little shit-"

Tim smirked. "You don't want to hurt me, Dylan. How do you think Marco would react if I come to him and tell him you beat me up?"

"Easy, I'll just-"

"He'll think you were just being paranoid and beat me up for no reason. He's too _adorably_ naïve to think anything else."

Dylan hated how Tim called Marco 'adorable.' It was true, but _he_ was the only one who was allowed to call him that.

Jealousy started to work its way into Dylan's voice as he growled, "You will leave Marco alone. He's in love with me, and vice versa. I'm not going to hurt him; we already had a talk about when I go off to University. I'll only be half an hour away from here at the University of Toronto. He can come visit me or I visit him anytime we want. Face it, Tim, you don't have everything worked out." He released the younger boy, wanting so badly to punch him. Since when did he get this violent?

Tim winked sarcastically as the bell rang. "That's what you think." And he sauntered off to his class, walking like he owned the school.

Dylan tried to burn a hole through Tim's back as the younger boy walked away. He had to talk to Marco.

Soon.

* * *

When the bell rang for lunch, Dylan all but sprinted to Marco's locker, hoping to catch him before he left.

Or before Tim got to him.

Marco finally put his last book in his locker, snuck a happy glance at the picture of him and Dylan, and shut his locker. He was about to turn away...

Until someone crashed into him, knocking him over.

"Gah!" Marco uttered as he fell. But, luckily for the younger boy, someone happened to be right behind him and caught him on his way down.

Looking up, extremely shocked, he saw Dylan, wild-eyed and slightly out of breath.

"Are you okay, Marco?" the voice from the person who had caught him asked worriedly. It was Tim.

Glaring at Tim, Dylan reached down quickly and yanked him out of Tim's grasp. Pulling Marco behind him, Dylan raised an arm slightly in front of the Italian boy, shielding him.

Tim looked politely surprised and confused at Dylan and Marco. Marco wore an identical expression to Tim, both looking up at Dylan who was murderously looking at Tim. _What an effing actor he is. No wonder he fooled everyone._

"Uh, Dyl?" Marco asked out, a little quietly. He was shocked and admittedly a little frightened of the hatred in Dylan's gaze. What on earth had happened?

"We need to talk," Dylan told him, eyes still not leaving Tim's face. "Now."

"Um, sh-sure Dylan," Marco stammered slightly. He only did that when he was really scared or nervous. And Dylan knew that.

Looking down, Dylan's eyes changed from hate to full of apology and love. Trying to tell him through his eyes that he was not mad at _him_.

"What's the matter Dylan?" Tim asked, sounding slightly concerned.

Forcing himself not to pounce on that little liar, or at least flipping him the finger, Dylan towed Marco away from Tim as fast as he could. Marco looked apologetically behind his shoulder at Tim, and was surprised to see the same hatred in Tim's eyes that was in Dylan's not a second before.

Dylan pushed open the side door of the school and towards his car. They were allowed to leave school grounds during lunch hour, as it was assumed that you were getting lunch somewhere else, as long as they returned in time for their next class. Dylan opened the back passenger door and scooted in, pulling Marco in with him. The older boy was far from hungry, and he sincerely hoped that Marco wasn't either since he didn't think they'd have enough time to get lunch after their talk.

Confused as to what the talk could possibly be about (though he highly suspected it had something to do with Tim, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it), Marco just looked at Dylan, but he was lost in thought as to how he should start.

Paige and Tim's words started to echo throughout Dylan's thoughts.

_"Tim and Marco were pretty much inseperable. I know this might hurt, but they had _a lot_ in common with each other." _

_"Just don't come crying to me when you find out Marco's been cheating on you. Or left you. For someone better."_

_"Wouldn't you be willing to bring someone who was that close to you back into your life?"_

_"Tim was like the replacement Marco, and Marco became the replacement you." _

_"He was scared, Dyl, everyone had rejected him." _

_"...he can be very ambitious and...aggressive to get the things he wants."_

_"Just watch out, Dylan."_

"Dylan?" Marco whispered, getting really worried now. "What's wrong?"

"Do you trust Tim?" Dylan asked simply in a montone, not looking at him.

Marco looked taken a back. "Huh?"

"Do you trust Tim," Dylan said flat out again.

"Well, I-I guess so," Marco replied warily.

"More than me?" Dylan murmured.

"What? No, of course not, Dylan. What's this about?"

Dylan inwardly sighed with relief. If Marco trusted him more, and he was holding him to that, then this talk should be a breeze right?

"Marco, this morning I had an...interesting talk with your friend Tim." Dylan glanced at Marco, who wore an encouraging face, prodding him to go on. Though his eyebrows had begun to knit together. "He walked up to me before homeroom and said that I had to break up with you."

Marco felt like he just got punched in the stomach. He actually reflexively wrapped his arms around his middle. _Wha-?_ his mind buzzed, completely and utterly confused.

The older boy took a deep breath, "I asked him why in the world I'd even bother to _think_ about doing that. He went off into a long rant about how I'm leaving at the end of the school year to go to University and how it won't work out for us. And how he was better for you than I am."

Marco let out an angry and hurt croak. Dylan whipped his head to look at him concernedly, but Marco was staring at the back of the passenger seat's head, mind struggling to absorb this. _Tim...Tim likes...me?_ It couldn't be. It...it didn't make sense. It was _impossible_, yet here Dylan was, telling Marco exactly that.

"He told me that he'd take you away from me, that to not be surprised if you...if you left me for him-"

Marco shook his head vigorously, sorrow evident in his face, and something struck Dylan as odd about it. It almost seemed like...betrayal in his eyes.

_"Tim and Marco were pretty much inseperable..._

_"...They had _a lot_ in common with each other." _

_"Wouldn't you be willing to bring someone who was that close to you back into your life?"_

Ow. That must hurt. Dylan felt less sorry for himself now, and more for Marco. A close friend, which he thought he had lost, had come back into his life for a matter of days and then all of the sudden betray him.

Dylan rested a hand on Marco's knee, trying to comfort him, whispering, "And for me to watch out. I didn't want to hurt you, Marco, but I didn't want you to continue to be played by that liar," Dylan finished a little harshly.

Marco winced at his words, and Dylan regretted the way they came out. Marco felt a sudden urge to be alone, and wanted to get away from Dylan and his car as soon as he could.

"I won't," he muttered, shoved on the door handle and slumped out.

"Marco!" Dylan cried at his boyfriend's retreating back.

Marco, however, ignored him. He wasn't feeling too friendly at the moment. Tim had been one of his best friends before everything went downhill. He was another gay guy, who was his _friend_, and someone he could confide to and help. Someone who knew how hard it was to be the way they were without any 'sexual tension' or anything like that.

But now, it was all over.

Marco glumly opened his locker to grab his books for his next class.

"Marco?"

The Italian boy flinched away from that voice.

"Tim." Marco said dismissively, not even bothering to conceal the hostility and hurt he felt and instead put it all in that one word.

Tim looked at him worriedly. _Dylan hadn't...talked to him already had he?_ Despite the little 'show' before lunch, he had hoped with all his heart Dylan hadn't had the guts to tell Marco. Unfortunately, he seemed to be wrong.

"What's the matter?"

Marco gave him an angry _you-should-know_ look and pushed past him. The lunch bell hadn't sounded yet, but he just wanted to get away from the traitor.

"Ah, Dylan talked to you about me." It was more of a statement than a question. _It's now or never!_

Marco looked at him with betrayal in his eyes. "How could you try to break us up, Tim? I thought...I actually thought we were friends."

"We are Marco!" Tim wailed, clearly upset. "I don't know what Dylan told you, but it was obviously from his jealous point of view."

Marco paused for a second, until Dylan's words thundered through Marco's head. "_I didn't want you to continue to be played by that liar."_ Marco sniffed. As much as it hurt, he wasn't going to keep fooling himself.

"Is that so," Marco replied coldly, and started walking away from him again.

"Please, Marco," Tim ran in front of him, forcing Marco to stop walking. "What did Dylan tell you?"

Marco looked him straight in the eye. "He told me the truth Tim, and I can't believe you. Nothing will-" but he couldn't bring himself to be so harsh as to tell him right then and there that nothing would happen between them. That he was fighting a lost battle. Marco just shook his head, pushed past Tim, and tried to walk away again.

"Marco!" Dylan called again, bursting through the doors. He had been stewing in the car for a few minutes, until the thought of Marco depressed somewhere...someone else trying to cheer him up and not him...it became too much for the blonde to stand.

Now he saw Tim just behind Marco, looking like he was trying to convince him of something. Dylan's nostrils flared furiously. He bounded forward towards Marco, pushing Tim away from both of them.

Tim looked like he was mentally trying to kill Dylan with his eyes. "_What did you tell him?_" he hissed at the older boy.

Marco's boyfriend glared at Tim and remarked, "Nothing but the truth, slime ball."

Tim snorted, "Ha! Yeah, sure. You're _version_ of the truth, maybe."

"Oh, really?" Dylan crossed his arms and his face had a mock interested expression on it. "Then what _is_ the truth?"

Tim took a deep breath and looked straight into Marco's averted eyes. "Marco, I don't know what he told you, but the truth is...the truth is I like you Marco. A lot. And I know you were going out with Dylan, so I wasn't planning anything! I can't help it if you're so...incredibly smart, kind, funny, and absolutely gorgeous."

"That's enough, Gerallde," Dylan snarled, pressing Marco farther behind him. Marco had peeked behind Dylan's protective arm into Tim's sincere green eyes.

Meanwhile Dylan was shouting in his head, _He is such a LIAR! Not planning anything eh? Is that what he's going to go with? Bullshit._

Tim smirked, "Jealous much Michalchuk?"

Dylan started towards him but Marco quickly grabbed on to his arm to stop him. Dylan looked down at those conflicted eyes, and whispered urgently, "Please don't listen to him Marco, he's a liar. Why would I lie about this, about _anything_ to you?"

Marco nodded up at him, and gave Tim a hard stare.

"And why would _I_ lie to you, del Rossi?" Tim said softly, looking so vulnerable.

"Because you're trying to break us up!" Dylan roared, getting completely frustrated by Tim's talented lying skills.

"I told you I wasn't trying to!" Tim insisted. "I don't know where he's getting this stuff from, Marco, but you have to believe me!"

"That is _such_ a lie Tim, and you know it!" Dylan shouted.

The bell rang over their heads and three of them jumped. Dylan and Tim glared at each other, and Marco's eyes flickered between Tim and Dylan before taking a deep breath and linked his arm with Dylan's. Dylan, jumped again slightly before he turned warm eyes to Marco, which he contently returned. However, Tim looked hurt and Marco, already getting over his past anger (he never was one to hold a grudge), wanted to make him feel better.

"Tim," Marco said softly. "I...we...can we...?"

Tim looked slightly confused before he lit up. "Be friends at least?"

Marco nodded, not smiling. "But _only_ friends Tim. Nothing more."

Tim grinned brightly. "It'll be enough for now. I'll talk to you later, Marco." His happy face turned to dislike as he looked up at Dylan's. His gaze alone said _Go die in a hole,_ but he refrained from speech and walked away.

Marco was slightly afraid to look up at Dylan, but the older boy's fingers lifted his chin up, doing the work for him. Smiling a little into the face he loved so much, Dylan said in a hushed tone, 'I don't like it Marco. I don't like it at _all_, but...I just want you to be happy, and if being his friend makes you happy then I'll just have to deal with it."

Marco grinned brilliantly up at him and hugged him tightly. "That's why I love you Dylan, you're the most amazing person I know," he whispered into his chest.

Dylan was about to say something back, but they both heard voices getting louder and louder down the hallway, and they quickly pulled apart. Winking at each other, they both headed to their classes, Marco happy, Dylan slightly troubled.

Tim was one sneaky little sucker. _No wonder he got the main part in the play, he's a natural actor_ he scoffed, not meaning that as a compliment. According to him, acting was like lying with flair and everyone was praised for being good at it.

But he did want Marco to be as happy as possible..._And_, he thought selfishly. _As long as I'm the one Marco loves...not that conniving 'Tim,' then I guess I can deal right? Even if I do hate the guy._

Tim , however, was feeling pretty damn giddy right about now. Marco had an opportunity, the _perfect_ opportunity to get Tim out of his life for good, and he chose to keep him in it. True, he and his boyfriend both made their point pretty clear that they were head over heels for each other (Tim refused to say 'loved'), but who knows? Tim knew he would always be waiting in the wings for Marco to come to his senses. He'd never give up on him. Ever. And even if Marco had decided to cut Tim from his life, he would never stop trying to get back in it. As far as he was concerned, he was just that much closer to having Marco to himself than he thought he'd be.

He supposed he was quite pathetic, chasing after a guy who not only older than him, but with someone else who was older than _him_. The odds were _not_ in his favour, but dammit he was going to try.

* * *

(1) In the U.S. I don't think there really is a big difference between College and University, but in Canada there is so that's why I wrote them both down ;) haha just a little fun fact for you guys there :P


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** This is kind of the fun chapter :) It's sort of a break from all the bad-ness that's been happening to Marco and Dylan :) Though, of course, there needs to be a little drama in here to keep things interesting ;) And yes, I've realized that it is very long, but ahh welll :)

This should tide any of you guys that are still with me over until I come back, because unfortunately tomorrow I'll be going into surgery to remove my gallbladder (yeah I know, sounds glamorous right?) so I'll be recovering from it for a little while but hopefully it'll only be a quick recovery so I can work on the next chapter ASAP :) This is just precautionary (who knows? with all the spare time on my hands now maybe I'll actually be writing _more_ :P) but just keep reading and reviewing :) They are veryyyy much appreciated and needed! :D

* * *

"So are you finally ready for the movies?" Dylan teased as Marco came down the stairs.

"Well excuse me, it takes a while to get my hair _this_ puffy," Marco joked, playfully shaking his head wildly at Dylan to prove his point.

Dylan laughed and took his hand, leading him out to the car. "You look great by the way," he whispered, kissing Marco's hand softly, eyes twinkling up at him.

Marco blushed slightly, looking away.

"And you look so cute when you blush."

"Stoooooopppp," Marco whined and hit Dylan lightly on the shoulder, blushing harder.

Dylan winked. "What? It's true. I can't believe I was lucky enough to land the cutest, nicest, smartest, and most amazing guy in the entire world."

"O-O-OKAY now you're going completely overboard," Marco insisted, cheeks bright red now.

"No, I'm not!" Dylan pouted. "Can't I tell my boyfriend I love him?"

Marco grabbed his neck and kissed him hard and lovingly. He licked Dylan's bottom lip and pulled it with him teasingly as they broke apart. Dylan's heart was ramming against his chest as he looked into those chocolate brown eyes, wanting more kisses. "You can," Marco smiled up at him. "But I think you've got the description wrong. I'm pretty sure you were describing yourself."

Dylan, pretending to be exasperated with him, rolled his eyes. Brushing Marco's cheek with the back of his hand, Dylan smiled and said, "Fine, if you want to play that game." He kissed him gently, building up to a more passionate kiss.

"Mmm, Dyl, we're going to be late to the movie," Marco murmured unwillingly around his kiss, his own fingers embedded in the older boy's hair.

Dylan growled slightly before kissing him more desperately, crushing Marco's lips with his own. Marco looked irresistable right now.

Marco sighed blissfully, "Mmm, I love you, but baby we gotta go-"

"Uh-uh," Dylan answered stubbornly, driving his tongue into Marco's warm mouth. He held Marco tight against him, not wanting to move.

Snickering, Marco gently tickled Dylan's sides, causing him to laugh too and lift his lips away from Marco's. Dylan composed himself and stuck out his lower lip. "Okayyyyyyyy," he gave in.

Marco smiled cunningly at Dylan's disappointment, gave his a quick kiss and slid into the passenger's seat, cheeks still pink and feeling a little light-headed from the kissing. Dylan hopped into the driver's seat and started the car. The car ride was uneventful and mostly quiet, but that was the amazing part of it; it bothered neither of them. They could sit comfortably in absolute silence, something not many people they knew could do.

When they got there, they hopped out of their seats and raced each other to the movie ticket line, giggling like maniacs. They felt like such little kids, but they savoured it; it was good to let yourself go every once in a while.

Every time they went to the movies, Dylan always bought the tickets and Marco bought the drinks and snacks. In the end, it came out to be a fair share, as they always went crazy on the candy and popcorn.

After buying tickets to the comedy movie both of them had wanted to see for a little while, they jumped in line for the snacks, laughing and joking to each other. They always were the life of the movie theatre whenever they went; everyone else was _so_ dull!

Marco paid for the insane amount of popcorn, candy, and pop and they both started towards their theatre number, Marco slightly in the lead. Grinning, the younger boy turned around and stated, "Race you to the movie theatre?"

Dylan looked thoughtful. "Hmm, I don't know...we've got a lot of popcorn and-" Dylan took off sprinting towards the theatre, cackling crazily.

Marco, totally surprised, shook his pop-holding hand and cried, "Jerk!" before racing after him. It took longer than they expected since they were trying to run while balancing their snacks at the same time.

After much bumping, sliding, jumping, and laughing like mad men, they fell into their seats, cheeks sore from smiling too widely for so long.

During the whole movie, they had an intense, on-going poke-and-see-who-could-make-the-other-jump-higher-from-the-surprise war. Several times people would get up from their seats and walk by them, obviously trying to find where the snickers and shrieks were coming from, and each time they failed to notice the two boys' strained faces. Only when they went back to their seats did they exploded into silent giggles, covering their mouths with their hands. A couple times the people who got up would ask them if they had heard anything odd, and they would politely and respectively respond with a 'no' before doubling over with laughter once they were out of view.

When the movie was over they chased each other out to the car, breathless and exhausted from the howls of laughter. They held hands the entire way home, and when they got up to the front steps and unlocked the door, Dylan swooped a still giddy Marco up in his arms and as silently as he could raced up the stairs into their bedroom.

He threw the younger boy on the bed and dive-bombed into it himself. Chortling, Marco leaned over and kissed him. "That had to be one of the best nights of my entire life," he told him sincerely, smiling.

Dylan gently ran his fingers through Marco's hair. Nuzzling his face into it, he breathed, "I always loved your hair." He kissed it softly.

Marco snuggled as close to him as he possibly could, kissing Dylan's neck and shoulder in return. "I always loved you," he replied, giving his boyfriend a sly smile.

Dylan mock glared a him, "That's not fair del Rossi!"

"And what," Marco whispered enticingly, eyes glittering and poking him gently in the chest. "Exactly are you going to do about it, Michalchuk?"

Dylan grinned and kissed him lightly. "Mmm...I'll think of something." Hugging Marco tightly to him, Dylan sighed contently and they both fell asleep.

* * *

"What would I get," Marco asked suddenly, eyes dancing mischievously. "If I was able to skate to the other end of the river and back without falling?" He was currently holding on to Dylan's arm tightly as the older boy towed the incompetent ice skater to the river bed.

They were at the old, frozen river again. This was supposed to be one of the last few weeks that they could skate on it without it being in danger of it cracking due to the change of weather, and they were taking advantage of it.

Dylan snorted, ruffling his hair. "I'd give you a million dollars."

Marco looked at him with mock hurt. "Hey, you never know, this might all be a show." He winked. "I might not be as bad as you think."

Dylan smirked. "Okay del Rossi. If you can skate, by _youself_, to the end of the river and back _without_ falling...you can pick what you get. A kiss...a tree stopping you..." Dylan winked. "A kiss..."

Marco grinned. "The tree, definitely. No question about it."

"_Ohhhhh,_ you are _so_ going to get it!"

Marco giggled as Dylan gently tackled him to the ground, poking and tickling the younger boy's sides and causing him to squeal and squirm in protest.

A little while later they were chucking snowballs at each other in their backyard, laughing hysterically. At one point Marco threw a snowball right into Dylan's face, causing the older boy to drop his ammunition and resort to chasing after his Dylan caught him, he picked Marco up and started twirling him around in the falling snow. Marco closed his eyes and scrunched up his face, sticking out his tongue and trying to catch a snowflake. Dylan laughed as a flash of light went off in the corner of his eye.

Dylan set Marco down and they both look accusatorily at Paige who was standing there smiling smugly, brandishing her camera.

"Paige," Dylan groaned.

"What? You guys are too cute," and she started clicking away again.

Dylan and Marco glanced at each other. They grinned and all at once bent down, scooped up snow and started throwing snowball after snowball at her.

She screamed and ran inside, leaving Marco and Dylan laughing hysterically at her. Marco still had a snowball left so he threw it at Dylan and took off. Dylan yelled in surprise, shaking his gloved fist and started after him.

They had probably the world's biggest snowball fight then. They built forts and chucked snowball after snowball until they were both wet and freezing.

"Hot chocolate?" Dylan asked as they stepped inside.

Marco nodded vigorously, getting out two giant mugs as Dylan poured the water into a teapot.

As they were happily sipping their warm drinks, Paige came bursting forward, Spinner on her arm. They were both dressed in snow pants, heavy jackets, snow boots, and warm gloves. Paige was also wearing a matching powder blue hat and scarf.

"Awww, are you guys done?" Paige pouted.

"Well we're just warming up," Dylan told her, taking a big gulp of his hot chocolate.

"Come on back out," Spinner whined. "Don't be babies."

Marco grinned, finishing the rest of his drink in one swig, and stood up, pulling his jacket and other items on him. He walked up to Spinner, a challenge in his warm, brown eyes.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Marco gave him a demuring smile.

"Old place?"

"Where Jimmy-"

"Dared the guy-"

"And he-"

"Did the...yeah?"

"Same time?"

Spinner chuckled. "3:15?"

"Of course," Marco beamed.

"It's on." They shook hands. Spinner grabbed the bemused-looking Paige and walked out of the kitchen.

Marco sat down at the table again and suddenly noticed Dylan's pointed stare. "What?"

"What the heck was that?" Dylan asked completely bewildered.

"Oh, we're having a snowball fight at three-fifteen in the old park," Marco said easily. "You know, in the little circular forest area?"

Dylan gaped at him. "You got all of that..."

Marco grinned, "Mhmmm. You see when Spinner, Jimmy, Craig, and I were little, we'd usually have a snowball fight in that little area. We'd _always_ go over to Spin's house, and Jimmy could only come over later because he'd have basketball until 2:30 in the gym. So, three-fifteen became the set time."

Dylan chortled, shaking his head at him. "I _so_ wish I knew you when you were little."

And at three-fifteen, as promised, Spinner, Paige, Marco, and Dylan all met at the encircled area behind the trees at the old park. They came armed with snowballs and grins as wide as the Cheshire cat's in Alice in Wonderland.

It was Marco and Dylan against Paige and Spinner. They all twirled and danced as they pelted each other with clumps of snow. Marco, laughing like no other, scooped up a hand full of loose snow and threw it on Paige. She shrieked, giggled and tackled Marco to the ground. They started wrestling around in the cold, wet, blanket as Spinner and Dylan did their own little show-down.

Afterwards, the four of them built the biggest snowman they could. Paige wrapped her scraf around the snowman's neck, Marco stuck his gloves on the end of two sticks and tucked it into its side, Dylan found some rocks and made a face, and Spinner found a short, stubby stick to use as the nose.

Giggling, Marco and Paige then hopped on their boyfriend's backs and raced around the area, seeing who could go faster.

Eventually, they were all lying in the snow, panting and utterly wiped out. Marco looked over and grinned at Dylan, who returned the wide smile, and got up, pulling the other pair with them for some more much-need hot chocolate.

Just as everyone sat down at the kitchen table, Paige squealed suddenly, "Ooo wait! I forgot to show you guys!" she ran out of the room.

Dylan shared a surprised look with Marco and Spinner as Paige burst into the room again. In her hand was her camera and she skipped over to Dylan and Marco's side.

"Look, look, look!" Paige flipped her camera on and started from the back.

There were pictures of all of them, building the snowman, the snowball fight, everything. And while they laughed at a hilarious, unprepared-looking picture of Spinner, Paige grinned and clicked to the next photo.

She said, "Look, Dyl, this is my favourite picture of the two of you." Marco and Dylan looked down.

Marco had his legs wrapped around Dylan's middle as he leaned back with his arms spread out in a wide 'V' shape above his head. His eyes were clamped shut and his face was all scrunched as he stuck out his tongue in an attempt to catch the falling snowflakes. Dylan had his hands gripping Marco's waist securely so he wouldn't fall as he leaned back. His eyes were half open as he looked at Marco, his mouth in a wide grin as he laughed.

Marco gave the picture a soft smile before looking up at Dylan.

"Can you print this picture?" Dylan asked Paige.

"Sure, how many copies?"

"Two," Marco cut in.

Dylan grinned at him. He absolutely loved this picture. Marco looked _so_ adorable here, and Dylan wanted to keep it forever. Sure, he'd probably seem like a geek, but he also had that picture of him and Marco sleeping together and he wanted to add this one to his collection.

When they were all finished with their hot drinks, Marco, Paige, and Dylan changed into fresh clothes while Spinner asked Marco if he could lend him some. The four of them ate dinner and built a fire in the Michalchuk's living all snuggled up together under two blankets, Paige with Spinner and Marco with Dylan. Turning on the television, they ordered some random comedy movie and began watching it. Though not too far into it, Dylan noticed that Marco had fallen asleep, his head resting on Dylan's shoulder and his arms wrapped loosely around Dylan's chest under the blanket. He looked so peaceful that Dylan didn't dare move more than an inch at a time, so as not to disturb him. The older boy was quite comfortable as well, and soon he realized that he was the only one still up.

When the movie ended, Dylan flicked the t.v. off. The sun had long since set, and the only light now was the light coming off from the dying embers of the warm fire. He checked his watch sleepily and saw that his parents should be getting home in another half hour or so. Dylan kissed Marco's head goodnight and fell into a deep sleep himself.

The only time Dylan awoke slighty in the night was when his parents had come home and offered to drive Spinner back to his house. He was very happy that his parents no longer needed to do that for Marco, as they were now living together. Smiling, he drifted back off to sleep.

* * *

"_Dylan!_" Someone hissed his name, shaking him slightly.

"Hmmmmmm," Dylan muttered sleepily, cuddling Marco's body closer to him. He was far too comfortable and tired to wake up _now_.

"_Dylan Michalchuk!_" Ah. Now he recognized the voice. The older boy peered blearily up at his sister.

"_What?_"

"You need to get up _now_, you're going to be late for your hockey practice!" Paige smacked a pillow on his face. Grumbling she slumped up back to her own bed. If she didn't happen to glance at the clock when she turned over he'd miss his practice and probably earn a good lecture about it from his coach. Dylan was already on the coach's bad list when he missed the game while Marco was in the hospital. Paige knew she'd feel guilty about it if she didn't bother to even check to see if he was awake, so she unhappily forced herself out of bed. Now, however, Paige grumpily pulled the covers over her head and tried to fall asleep again.

Dylan groaned, loudly and with meaning. He _loved_ hockey, that much was for certain, but right now hockey was the last thing he felt like doing. The older boy looked down at Marco and found that he was still fast asleep. Smiling and kissing Marco gently on the forehead, Dylan slinked off of the couch, succesfully not waking the younger boy up. Marco did grumble slightly in his sleep, eyebrows creased momentarily as he felt Dylan leave his side.

Dylan checked the clock and found that it was pretty early in the morning, even though he was running a bit late. _Maybe if I finish practice and take a quick shower afterwards, I can crawl back into bed with Marco if he's still asleep..._Dylan smiled at the possibility. He loved just watching Marco's peaceful face as he slept; it was so unguarded and perfect.

Yawning, Dylan lifted his hockey bag and stick in his car and drove to the arena. Ryan arrived at the same time Dylan did, and inwardly he rolled his eyes. Ryan was famous for coming late to practice, and it drove their coach insane. In fact, if he wasn't one of their top scorers, the coach probably would've kicked him off the team years ago.

"Hey Dylan!" Ryan greeted. He sprinted over to him, his hockey bag flying behind him. Ryan looked like a crazy, clutzy chicken when he ran, yet on the ice he was smooth and agile. It was weird, but then again, it was Ryan.

"Hey Ryan," Dylan grinned.

Ryan waggled his eyebrows at him mischievously. "So how's living with the dreamy Marco del Rossi?"

Dylan rolled his eyes outwardly this time. "Ryan."

His friend was practically bouncing as he walked. "What? Can't your best friend, who you never see anymore by the way, ask an innocent question?"

"Uh, how much coffee did it take to get you out of bed this morning?"

Ryan glared at him, his eyes demanding, _Answer the question_.

"Fine, fine," Dylan caved. "Um, it's alright..."

Ryan poked him, grinning, "It's better than _'alright,'_ Michalchuk! Look at you! You're blushing!" He cackled as Dylan's face turned redder and redder by the second.

"Shut up," Dylan growled, feeling the heat creep all over his head.

"Do you guys sleep in the same room?" Ryan winked. "Same bed?"

Dylan thwapped Ryan on the back of the head.

"Ow! Dude, that hurt," Ryan whined. But he smiled impishly again, and said, "But that only means I'm right."

Dylan groaned as they entered the dressing room. Everyone else was almost fully dressed.

"Hey!" Keith, their best defender, greeted, tossing a smelly, unwashed, sweat-stained shirt at them. "You guys are late. Again."

Ryan grinned evily at him before he chucked it back. "Sorry sweetheart, we'll try to not keep you waiting next time."

Keith lunged at him and they started wrestling on the change room floor. This wasn't anything new, they had a wrestle match at least twice a week.

Smirking, Dylan whacked them both on the head with his skate towel that he pulled out of his bag. "Hey idiots. Get up, practice starts in like ten seconds. And Ryan, unless you want the coach to make us both skate laps the entire practice, you better get ready.'

Ryan jumped up and saluted him. "Yes sir!" He scurried over to his place on the bench and started throwing his equipment on him like it was nobody's business.

They all chuckled at Ryan's over-energetic attitude and finished getting dressed.

* * *

Dylan drove home, tired and hoping that Marco was still asleep. That and Paige hadn't hogged all the hot water again. _Nah, she's probably still trying to sleep,_ Dylan thought. _It's only seven thirty._

When he pulled up into the driveway, he tip-toed into the living room and happily found Marco still fast asleep. Dylan ran up the stairs and into the bathroom. He didn't even wait for the water to warm up, he just jumped into it and took a shower in record time.

The older boy's hair was still wet as he slipped back on the couch and wrapped his arms contently around Marco. The Italian boy murmured something restlessly when he was moved slightly so Dylan could get in. However when Dylan put his arms around him, Marco seemed to relax and respond to Dylan's touch. The younger boy tucked his hands under Dylan's torso subconsciously in his own form of a hug. He sighed happily and his even breathing started up again.

Dylan kissed Marco's hair before he closed his own eyes.

* * *

Dylan beamed down at his still sleeping boyfriend when he awoke for the second time. He shook him slightly, wanting to wake him up before he slept in too late.

"_Cinque nuovi minuti __**(Five more minutes)**__,_" Marco murmured, not realizing he was speaking Italian.

Goosebumps covered his arms, as was the expected after-effect of Marco talking Italian. Dylan decided to play along and spoke a different language too. "_Réveiller__**(Wake up)**__, _baby." Dylan answered back, eyes twinkling.

"Mmmm," Marco groaned, peeking up at him. "I have no idea what you just said."

Dylan gave him a crooked smile, kissing his nose. "Now you know how I feel."

Marco blearily rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It annoys _me_ when someone else does it." He used this as an excuse to close his eyes again and try to go back to sleep.

Dylan laughed and Marco could feel the vibrations coming off his chest. "That you do, love. But you need to get up or you'll sleep the whole day away."

"I can live with that," Marco mumbled.

"Mmaaarrrcccooo," Dylan purred, pecking him beneath his jawline, knowing he was ticklish there.

"Oh no," he said, suddenly realizing what he was doing. "No, no, don't..." A fit of giggles escaped Marco's lips as he tried to worm away from Dylan's reach. "_Stooopp_," he got out, still laughing.

Dylan smiled widely and kissed him lightly, whispering, "You are so cute when you do that."

Marco rolled his eyes and smiled at him. "You smell good," he stated, inhaling deeply.

Dylan chuckled loudly, ruffling his hair. "Well I didn't want to smell _bad_ when I got home from hockey practice."

Marco grinned, got up, stretched, kissed Dylan on the cheek, and said, "I'm going to go make breakfast." He walked into the kitchen and turned on the stove.

"Pancakes!" Dylan called happily.

Marco laughed, "Of course." He took out the bacon and pancake ingredients.

Dylan sat up on the cushions and stretched himself. He felt extremely lazy today, and all he wanted to do was sit on the couch with Marco and watch movies next to the fire. Like last night. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure Marco felt the same way.

Marco was happily flipping pancakes and bacon on the hot pan. Today felt like such a lazy day. He wished he could just relive last night and watch movies (except he didn't fall asleep so early this time) all day today, though he wasn't positive Dylan hadn't planned something different.

Suddenly he felt someone's arms go around his waist and soft lips pressed against his neck(not on his ticklish spot). Marco smiled as Dylan shut off the stove, pulled the spatula out of his hand, turned him around and kissed him hungrily. He moved Marco over slightly to the left so he wasn't near the stove and sat him on the counter, lips still moving against the younger boy's.

"Mmmm," Marco breathed.

Dylan grinned and started kissing Marco's neck again. Marco gently ran his fingers up and down Dylan's sides, causing Dylan to shiver and start kisisng him fiercely again.

"You're food's getting cold, you know," Marco murmured around Dylan's kisses.

"I can wait," he answered and Marco's tongue happily entered his mouth. Dylan's thumbs caressed Marco's cheekbones as Marco's fingers entwined themselves in the older boy's hair. But after a while, Dylan's stomach started to growl ferociously and Marco laughed as Dylan grinned sheepishly.

"I think it's breakfast time," Marco smiled, tapping the older boy on the nose. He got down off the counter and plated the bacon and pancakes.

Dylan got out the maple syrup and milk and sat eagerly at the table. He _loved_ Marco's pancakes. The Italian boy added some spice or flavouring or whichever that Dylan adored, yet he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was and Marco wouldn't tell. It was a secret, apparently, that Marco guarded carefully. _All_ his cooking secrets were unknown to everyone. Even his own family, back before they turned into son-hating demons, never knew how he made most of his food.

Dylan dug into the breakfast happily as Paige came hopping down the stairs with her pink robe and into the kitchen. "Mmm," Paige sniffed. "I thought I smelt Marco's pancakes cooking." She winked at the Italian boy as she went to get some pancakes and bacon of her own.

Marco grinned sunnily at her as he bit into a piece of bacon. "Good morning Paigey."

Dylan barely acknowledged her presence as he drowned more of his pancakes with syrup.

Paige rolled her eyes. "And a good morning to you too hon," Paige looked pointedly at Dylan. He looked apologetically up at her and got out an "'Ey," as his mouth was still crammed with food.

Paige raised an eyebrow at him as Marco chuckled before shaking her head and beginning her own breakfast. "So what's the plan for you guys today?"

Marco and Dylan exchanged glances, not sure. "Oh, I dunno...feel like watching another movie Dyl?" Marco asked.

Dylan lit up; it was like the Italian boy had read his mind. "I was hoping you'd ask," Dylan winked.

Paige smiled at the two of them. "Mind if me and Spin join you two later? We're just going out for a couple of hours."

The younger boy shrugged and returned the smile. "Sure if you want."

Paige pecked them both on the cheek and left as the couple bounced down on the couch. Sighing, Marco nestled his head under Dylan's chin and the older boy contently put his arms around him tightly. He kissed his hair as Marco switched on the t.v.

Dylan really wanted to see the new horror movie that had just come out on "On Demand," so Marco finally agreed to watch it with him after much pleading on Dylan's part. Though Marco's conditions were it had to be in broad daylight when they saw it, and he was allowed to shriek and duck behind a pillow when anything scary happened.

A little more than halfway into the movie, Marco's face was buried into the pillow and Dylan silently grinned to himself. Marco was so adorable when he got like this, and despite how interesting the movie was, all he could focus on was not grabbing the Italian boy's face and kissing him.

Marco, meanwhile, peeked up from behind the pillow, wide-eyed. All _he_ could think about now was when the next scary part would be so he could jump behind the pillow. Marco was sitting on Dylan's lap and the older boy's arms were wrapped tightly around his middle.

Eventually(and thankfully to Marco), the movie ended and the credits started rolling up. He let out a big sigh of relief and smiled sheepishly up at Dylan's warm gaze.

"See? Was that so bad?" Dylan teased.

Marco looked at him with mock reproach. "Yes. Yes it was. And I am never watching another scary movie again." He stretched as Dylan chuckled.

"Fine, fine, you wanna watch a comedy next?"

"Yeah, because god forbid the movie actually be _happy_," Marco winked.

Chortling, Dylan tickled Marco's sides, causing him to squeal and laugh in protest and try to worm away from his fingers. But Dylan held him fast and Marco had little choice but to allow Dylan to pull him back into a hug. Marco snuggled up to his chest and kissed their intwined hands.

The brown eyed boy flipped on their favourite comedy movie and they began watching it. It was just ending when a distraught Paige barged through the door. Paige ran over to the couple on the couch and yanked Marco out of Dylan's lap.

"Hey!" Marco and Dylan cried in protest as she towed Marco up to her room.

"Hon, you have _got_ to help me!" Paige wailed, tears erupting in her eyes.

Still a little confused, Marco looked at his friend with concern. "What's wrong Paigey?"

"My dad's being an idiot! He called me and said he didn't want me seeing Spinner anymore!" she sobbed.

"Paige!" Dylan knocked loudly on her door, sounding angry. "Am I going to have to break down the door and save my kidnapped boyfriend?"

"Shut up Dylan!" Paige screamed at him. Marco could almost feel the shock coming off of Dylan right now.

"Paige?" Dylan said again, now sounding worried.

"Um, Dyl, could you maybe come back later?" Marco said softly, pulling Paige into a hug as she cried.

"Marco? What's going on?"

Paige took her hair brush and chucked it at the door. They heard Dylan yelp in surprise.

"Honey, really, now's not exactly a good time," Marco insisted.

Dylan heard Marco trying to soothe Paige's cries and he desperately wanted to know why his sister was like this. One thought jumped to his mind. Spinner.

"Did Spinner do something to you?" Dylan said angrily.

"I SAID SHUT UP DYLAN!" Paige screamed.

"Okay now you're making it worse," Marco groaned. Dylan heard this and felt a little left out. _Why can't she tell me too?_ he wondered.

Deciding to ignore the fact that Dylan probably had his ear pressed against the door, Marco rocked Paige back and forth and whispered gently, "Why would he say such a thing?"

"He...he said he's been th-thinking that for a while..." she choked out. "And we got into a f-fight over the phone and he said he f-forbid it...b-because he...he..."

"Shhh," Marco whispered, feeling unhappy for her. "He can't just forbid a thing like that. It's your life, Paigey, and you shouldn't let him or anyone tell you what would make you happy."

Dylan was utterly confused as he listened. _What did Spinner forbid her from doing?_ Dylan thought, completely at a loss.

"And he's a great guy, I mean, he's practically my best friend, what could your father possibly find wrong with him?" Marco tried to console her.

_Ohhhhhhh, _Dylan finally clicked it into place.

"He's obviously in love with you Paige, and he's caring and loyal, and smart..." he paused. "When he wants to be," he joked, and Paige gave a breathless laugh. "And maybe once you two have cooled down, you can discuss it with him again. He'll be more reasonable. You did say you guys were having a fight when he blurted it out, right?"

Paige nodded slowly, starting to feel better. "Yeah, we w-were."

Marco quickly reached over and grabbed a tissue. He handed it to her and she blew her nose, wiping her eyes. She looked at his tear-stained shirt and looked apologetically at him with still watery eyes. "You're shirt...I'm sorry-"

"Shh, Paige," Marco smiled, giving her another hug. "Don't worry about it, really."

She looked sheepishly at him before asking quietly, "Would...would you mind being there with me when..."

Marco hesitated, looking at the door for a few seconds before leaning in to whisper in her ear, "I would Paigey, but I think...you should ask Dylan."

She gave him a bewildered look.

"He's your brother right? And, um...to be honest I think he feels a bit left out that you told me and not him," Marco reasoned.

Paige nodded, looking a bit ashamed of herself. She hadn't meant to make Dylan feel left out or unloved or anything like that. Marco was just one of her best friends and it was the first person she thought of to come to for help. Plus Dylan was her _brother_ and sometimes she didn't feel comfortable telling certain things like this to him.

Marco winked at her. "I'm going to go let Dylan in so you can tell him, if that's alright? Since I'm guessing he's right outside your door straining his ears to listen to what's going on." They both grinned slightly at each other, knowing exactly that that's what he was doing.

Marco pecked her on the cheek, gave her a reassuring smile, and tip-toed to the door. Without warning he flung open the door and watched as Dylan almost fell inside. The older boy blushed and Marco gave him an amused-not-in-the-least-surprised look before he walked past him and down the stairs.

Confused, Dylan went to go after him when he heard Paige call softly, "Dylan?"

He turned around and walked slowly into Paige's room. She was hugging a pillow as she looked up at him with sadness and apology in her eyes.

She told him she was sorry for screaming at him, and confessed to him everything she told Marco, and asked the same thing she had asked the Italian boy. He whole-heartedly agreed. "Why doesn't Marco come too?" he suggested, squeezing her hand comfortingly. "You're practically a sister to him anyway."

She lit up, "Really?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I think you could probably use all the support you can get." And to be honest, he thought Marco was better at this kind of stuff then he was, though he was touched she asked him. He was also furious with his father. _Is he trying to break up _everyone's _relationship?_ he thought angrily in his head, remembering that day in the hospital.

He, too, pecked Paige on the cheek and gave her a smile before walking out of her room. Dylan bounced down the stairs and found Marco lounging on the couch and strumming his guitar, not playing any tune in particular.

He looked up and smiled. "Hey, how'd it go?"

Dylan gave him a kiss before planting himself on the couch, pulling Marco on his lap. "Well, good and bad. Good as in she told me without a hitch, but bad because of what it was about."

Marco nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I know. I don't understand how your father could just up and say she couldn't see Spinner anymore. I mean, it's not like Spin's a bad guy."

Dylan shook his head, completely at a loss as to what the answer could possibly be. "When he gets home we're going to talk to him. You, me, and Paige."

Marco was at first slightly surprised that his name was included in that list, but he just nodded in agreement.

Paige came down a little while later and they all sat together for a late lunch, which Marco happily cooked for them. They continued to watch movies all throughout the afternoon and into the evening, though neither of them were really paying attention.

Mr. Michalchuk came through the front door, but instead of tossing out his usual 'hellos', he just walked in and set his briefcase on the table. They all stood up to look at him, and Mr. Michalchuk looked slightly surprised to see them.

"Oh, hello guys," Mr. Michalchuk greeted suspiciously.

Paige glared at him. "We need to talk."

Mr. Michalchuk rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, not this again. Don't be such a drama queen Paige. Really, did you have to call in _backup?_"

Paige's jaw set. "You can't just _forbid_ me from seeing Spinner-"

"Oh yes I can," Mr. Michalchuk glared at her, putting his hands on his waist.

"Mr. Michalchuk, really, Spinner's a great guy," Marco insisted.

He snorted. "Yeah, you'd know wouldn't you?"

Marco's jaw went slack as he stared at him. _Did he really just...mean what I think he means?_

Paige's mouth was gaping open as she looked at Marco. Dylan's nostrils flared angrily. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean, huh, _'Dad?'_ " Dylan spat.

Mr. Michalchuk rubbed his head, looking stressed. "I didn't mean anything Dylan," he sighed. "I just don't want my daughter seeing that boy."

Marco was utterly speechless. _Oh no, not another homophobic father,_ Marco cried terrifyingly in his head. Suddenly it became hard to breathe properly.

"They're getting too serious." He turned to Paige. "You're too young to be getting so serious with a boy."

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Paige shouted.

"No, it's not," Mr. Michalchuk almost laughed. "And I'm your father and I said so."

_Okay, this is getting ridiculous,_ Dylan thought, frustrated. He turned to Paige and said, "You're not breaking up with Spinner." She grinned and took off upstairs.

"Paige!" Mr. Michalchuk roared "That boy is not allowed back in this house!"

"Too late!" Paige called gleefully from her room. "Thanks Dyl!"

Mr. Michalchuk and Dylan began yelling at each other. Marco's throat started to tighten even more as he saw the angry look on Dylan's father's face. He had a sudden horrific flashback to his own father and his heart stopped.

He could barely hear them arguing anymore. All he could hear was this raspy breathing sound that was filling his ears. He put a trembling his hand to his chest and struggled to breathe. His heart hammered so hard against his chest it actually _physically _hurt. Marco's vision blurred the way a dream would be after you woke up and tried to remember what happened in it. In fact, Marco suddenly wasn't sure whether he actually _was_ in a dream or not. He fell to his knees, gasping.

Dylan shut up the instant he saw Marco fall. "Marco?" he cried, dropping to his knees too. He placed his arms around Marco and felt the goosebumps on his skin, and his very tense body shaking. Marco had his hand clamped to his chest where his heart was pounding so hard Marco actually believed it was popping out of his chest like those in cartoons. The only actual coherent words that formed in his head were, _'I think I'm having a heart attack!'_

Dylan saw the pure anxiety on his face and he was completely shocked. "Shh, Marco you're all right!" Dylan told him over and over again as Marco fought to breathe like a normal human being. He was beyond words as to how to describe this to Dylan, who was asking him things like _"What's wrong Marco? What's happening?"_ In fact he forgot he even knew how to talk. Marco felt like he was reliving the situation with his father. Him screaming at him and hurting him...he felt like he was going to die. Like his father was somewhere in the room and trying to kill him.

Mr. Michalchuk just stood there, stunned.

Dylan and Marco stayed like that for almost ten minutes, Dylan rocking him back and forth and Marco feeling extremely vulnerable and afraid. But eventually the fear evaporated, he was able to breathe again (though it was a pant), his muscles relaxed, and his vision returned to normal. Unfortunately, Marco suddenly felt very weak. He leaned himself against the kitchen table, eyes closed.

Dylan watched him anxiously, eyes searching for any more abnormalities. _What just happened?_ Dylan yelled in his head. Though two words came to mind. Panic attack.

"Marco?" Dylan whispered softly after several moments of watching the Italian boy's breathing fully return to normal.

The younger boy opened his eyes and looked at him. He wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to explain his sudden, irrational break down. He was exhausted, but for some reason he didn't want to sleep. Marco wanted fresh air and to spend as much time with Dylan as possible. Dylan looked at him with understanding, and he scooped Marco up, completely not acknowledging his father at all.

Dylan kicked the front door open and they sat on the steps in silence. The older boy took Marco's hands and made him look at him.

Marco took a deep breath before he looked apologetically at him. "I'm sorry, I-I don't know what happened-"

Dylan smiled at him and started rubbing the back of the younger boy's hands with his thumb comfortingly. "I think I do. I think you may have had a panic attack."

Marco stared at him as he mulled this over. It made sense actually. They learned about panic attacks and other anxiety disorders, and how ironic it was that usually the reason people continue to have panic attacks is because they're afraid that they're going to have another one. However it was possible to get a panic attack and never get another one again, as long as they didn't become afraid of the possibility...

"The only question is why," Dylan finished. He didn't think Marco needed to visit a doctor about his panic attack just yet. It wasn't like they didn't know what just happened to him, and it was only one. If they became more frequent, then they'd go.

Marco looked at him with muted fear in his eyes. "I...It's just that...I don't know the way your dad was talking...I felt like I was facing off with my father again."

Dylan looked worriedly at him.

Marco forced a laugh. "Which is completely stupid since I know your dad isn't as bad as mine was-"

"What he said was completely out of line," Dylan remarked, kissing his hand. "And no, he hasn't gone so far to be anywhere near as bad as your father was, it still doesn't make him right."

Marco looked at him, anxiety still written all over his face. "I'm scared Dyl. The police haven't found him or my mother yet and they don't have any leads on were they could be...and...I miss them." He looked unhappily at his boyfriend. "I love living with you, but I wish I knew that I still had parents who...who loved me again." Marco looked down at his shoes.

Dylan was heartbroken to hear him talking like this. And he felt ashamed of himself for completely being oblivious to how Marco must've been feeling. _Has he been having nightmares?_ Dylan thought concernedly. He knew how they had terrorized him in the past.

Dylan placed his hand on Marco's knee, squeezing it slightly. "I wish I could give you that. I wish I could make them come back, but if it's any consolation, I'm positive they don't actually hate you."

Marco gave him a disbelieving look, as if saying, _Are you actually going to try that card?_

"Marco, someone can't go from love to hate in a matter of seconds," Dylan reasoned. "They may hate the _idea_ of what you are, but they don't hate you personally." Dylan suddenly winked at him. "And I for one am extremely glad you're the way you are, because otherwise you wouldn't be the Marco I love to death."

Marco leaned over and kissed him gently. "You have no idea how much I love you Dylan. You're amazing and perfect, and _everything_ to me." Marco smiled lovingly at him, a look that Dylan whole-heartedly returned.

It had gotten quite dark outside, and they shared one more quick kiss before they got up and walked inside. Thankfully Dylan's father wasn't in the kitchen anymore and they tip-toed up to bed.

Sighing happily, Marco and Dylan wrapped their arms around each other and fell asleep.

* * *

Okay so read and review! :D I'll be back as soon as I can ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Well, I'm back :) I'm still a little sore but good news is I'm able to write again (until the homework kicks in) so I hope you all like this chapter.

**ElementalKitty:** Hahaha I do aim to please :) I try to throw bits of humour in here now and again ;) Though I wish people would review more. I know this 'channel' isn't exactly one of the most popular anymore, but I see a bunch of stories with like 300 reviews and I'm like 'dang!' :P

_"Marco," a deadly familiar voice entered the younger boy's ears._

_Marco froze, fear paralyzing him momentarily. He turned around and saw his father standing a couple yards away from him, shock written all over his face. Mr. del Rossi, however was staring at him, face blank of all emotion. Marco's hand flew to his pocket where his phone was, gripping it tightly._

_"Non c'è bisogno di panico, Marco __**(There's no need to panic, Marco)**__," Mr. del Rossi smiled at him, opening his arms as if to give him a hug as he walked cautiously towards him. "Ho cercato per voi fin dalla ... da quel giorno. Volevo chiedere scusa, Marco. I. .. ho reagito in maniera eccessiva. Non avrei mai dovuto ... hai picchiato così __**(I've been looking for you ever since...since that day. I wanted to apologize, Marco. I...I over-reacted. I should never have...have beaten you up like that)**__." Mr. del Rossi was now standing right in front of Marco._

_Marco had never felt so conflicted. His heart wanted badly to believe him. To believe that his father loved him again, that he always did and just made a mistake. But Marco's instinct screamed danger. Especially since his father was speaking Italian. He _never_ did that unless he was angry or confused. Marco looked unsurely at him._

_"Per favore, Marco, mi dispiace tanto __**(Please, Marco, I am so sorry)**__." Marco decided to conpromise with his conflicting sides. While he stared back at his father, trying to hear him out, the hand gripping his phone started to dial Dylan's number; if Mr. del Rossi turned out to be deadly Dylan would know and hopefully call the police._

_"Hello?" Marco heard Dylan answer loudly from his phone. "Marco?"_

_Mr. del Rossi's eyes glinted murderously at him as he heard Dylan's voice. "Come, non ti fidi di me? __**(What, you don't trust me?)**__" he roared, leaping forward and twisting Marco's arm painfully behind his back in one swift motion, causing him to drop his phone. It stayed on, however, as Marco cried out in pain, his arm throbbing._

_"Marco!" Dylan shouted._

_"Ti senti fortunato, frocio?__**(You feel lucky, faggot?)**__" Mr. del Rossi hissed, pushing Marco's arm up higher. "Davvero?__**(Do you?)**__" _

Marco sat up gasping, clutching his chest where his heart was beating furiously. He quickly looked down at Dylan who, thank god, was still asleep. The Italian boy continued to take deep breaths, unnerved. He hadn't had a dream like last time in _weeks_. Why now? He wasn't going to see his father again...was he? Marco bit his lip worriedly. _What if that dream comes true too, like the last one?_

Lowering himself back down, he clutched Dylan closer to him, loving the feeling of security he got when he was in Dylan's arms. _Surely this one won't come true too, right? Last time was just a coincidence, it happens to everyone sooner or later,_ Marco tried to console himself. _Everyone, at least once in their life, predicts something that came true in their sleep, right?...True they're not usually as detailed or...disturbing...but it's all coincidental. What're the odds of it happening a second time, right?_

One thing Marco was certain of, however, was that he would _not_ tell Dylan or anyone else for that matter about it; he would just sound like a baby. _Just thank God he didn't hear this time_, Marco thought appreciatively.

The younger boy, shaking, tried to fall back asleep, but it was useless; he just kept feeling as if his father was hovering over him. Marco just rested his ear against Dylan's chest, hearing his heart beat strong and surely. It was the only thing stopping Marco from becoming hysterical. Hearing his heart beat reminded Marco of what was real, Dylan, and what was just a pure mixture of memory and a lively imagination, his father. _Why can't I ever go twenty-four hours without something ruining my time with Dylan?_ Marco thought exasperately.

When Dylan's alarm bell went off, Dylan opened his eyes, feeling rested, and looked down at Marco, smiling. However, his smile slid off his face as he saw Marco, dark circles underneath his wide eyes, looking depressed and exhausted. The older boy was confused. _Did I...maybe do something wrong?_ Dylan thought worriedly. Though that fear was put to rest as Marco looked up and smiled as warmly as he could at him.

Obviously it wasn't him that was the problem, but that meant something had happened over night while he was asleep and completely unaware. That bothered Dylan. A lot.

"Good morning Dylan," Marco looked blearily up at him, trying to sound cheerful.

"Marco?" Dylan asked. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"I did!" Marco insisted truthfully.

Dylan raised an eyebrow.

"Well...part...of the night," Marco uttered quietly.

"Why didn't you sleep, babe?" Dylan looked Marco in the eye seriously.

Marco yawned, stretched, got up, and tried to smile convincingly at Dylan. "Oh, you know, it was just one of those nights." No one could argue with that right?

Shrugging, Dylan let it go and smiled at Marco as the younger boy left to take a shower.

Marco, instead of turning the shower water to almost painfully hot like he was famous for, he let it stay cold. Taking a deep breath, Marco shoved his body into it and gasped, feeling a jolt go through him as the icy water hit his skin. Shivering, but awake now, Marco took as short a shower as he possibly could before wrapping himself in a towel and walked back into his and Dylan's room.

Dylan was dozing on his bed, looking so peaceful. Marco smiled softly at him before placing a hand on Dylan's shoulder and shook him gently. "Come on Dyl, get up."

"_Holy mother of-!"_ Dylan shrieked, jumping up and away from Marco's hand. "Marco, you're _freezing!_"

Marco's stunned expression turned into a sheepish, apologetic one. "Sorry," he murmured, stepping back slightly as if afraid he'd make Dylan cold just by standing near him.

Dylan rolled his eyes and pulled the towel-covered-and-ice-cold Marco into a hug. "Don't be silly Marco, it's fine, you just...shocked me." He looked at Marco with amused eyes. "Why _did_ you take a cold shower anyway? You usually take such a hot shower you burn people just by being in the same room as them," Dylan joked.

The younger boy grinned. "I was trying to wake myself up," he said evasively, giving him a coy smile.

Dylan beamed at him, chuckled and kissed him lightly. "Brrrrr," he fake shivered teasingly, pulling away and winking at Marco.

Marco rolled his eyes and pushed him back into his pillow. He got up and grabbed his clothes before going into the bathroom to get changed, feeling Dylan's charmed eyes follow him out.

* * *

"Good morning Marco," Tim said cautiously, not sure how the Italian boy would respond.

"Hey Tim," he greeted, smiling at him. Marco was determined to make their friendship work and forget about the fact that Tim...had a crush on him.

Relieved, Tim grinned. "And how was your morning, del Rossi?" He didn't want to know how his weekend with _Dylan_ was.

He hesitated slightly, but only slightly, before he answered, "Pretty good Gerallde," Marco winked at him. He yawned widely, "Though I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Oh?" Tim said, slightly concerned. "Why not?"

Again he paused, a little more noticeably this time, before he said, "Oh, you know, it was just one of those nights."

"Ahhh," Tim smirked at him.

Marco shut his locker and smiled in parting, and turned to leave until Tim caught him on the shoulder. "Hey, uh, I was wondering..." Tim said cautiously, looking the Italian boy seriously in the eye. _Come on, he already knows you like him. Stop being a freak and just ask him! _"Do you wanna maybe hang out sometime? Like go see a movie or something?"

"Oh, um," Marco said, feeling a little uncomfortable. _Is he asking...me out or something?_ "I don't know, Tim..."

"Oh, come on," Tim winked. "It's just going to be us _friends_ hanging out."

Marco bit his lip. "But what about-"

"Dylan?" Tim finished his question for him. "Marco, you can't let Dylan control your life like that. Just do whatever you want to do, you don't need his permission or anything."

Marco was still looking at him unsurely until he suddenly lit up. "Hey! I have an idea.. Listen, you know I really want us to be friends right?"

Tim beamed at him.

"And it's really important to me if my friend and my boyfriend get along, so why don't the three of us hang out together?"

Tim's face fell and hardened slightly.

"_Please?_" Marco pleaded, giving Tim his puppy dog eyes and placing a hand on Tim's arm.

_Gah, curse him and his persuasiveness,_ Tim thought unhappily in his head. Tim sighed and gave Marco a small smile. "Fine, sure Marco. We'll all hang out tonight."

Marco beamed radiantly at him. "Tim, you're the best!" And he started off to his homeroom excitedly, leaving Tim to stare after him.

Tim sighed again. How he was supposed to survive the night with Dylan glaring at him the entire time, he had no idea. But the only bright side was that Marco would be there, and _surely_ he would keep that Michalchuk fellow under control. Dylan wouldn't dare try anything, because Marco would get furious with him. An idea suddenly struck Tim, and he grinned maliciously as he went off to his homeroom. _Maybe,_ Tim thought wickedly. _If I get Dylan jealous enough...without seeming like I'm trying to to Marco...maybe Dylan _will_ try something and Marco will hate him!_ Okay, Tim realized this was pure wishful thinking, but he was determined to try.

When the bell rang, Marco hurriedly went off to find Dylan before he left for lunch.

Dylan was placing books away when he looked up suddenly and saw a grinning and slightly cautious Marco heading towards him. Surprised, but delighted, Dylan smiled at his boyfriend widely. "Hey, Marco," he greeted happily. "What're you doing down here?"

"Hey Dyl, listen I need to ask you something," Marco began quickly. "Okay, I-I know Tim isn't exactly your favourite person but I really want us all to be friends and I was hoping we could all hang out tonight so you guys can get to know each other but I understand if you don't want to go and you don't have to if you don't want to!" Marco had somehow said that all in one breath.

Dylan had his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he tried to catch up with all of Marco's words, but realization dawned on him as he figured it out.

Marco continued anxiously, speaking almost impossibly fast, "Because Tim came up to me this morning and he really wanted to hang out but I said I didn't know because it just sounded weird and he said to just come but then I said we should all hang out that way Tim would get what he wants and it wouldn't be awkward for me or anything and you'll be there but I completely understand if you don't want to because I know you don't like him but it would really be awesome if we all became friends and there wasn't any more hostility or anything but-"

Dylan placed a finger on Marco's lips, ceasing his babbling. He gave Marco an amused smile. "Only you could talk that fast, del Rossi," Dylan chuckled. Marco blushed, slightly embarrassed, and Dylan smiled wider. _God I love it when he blushes. _Dylan swooned in his mind, forgetting momentarily about the disturbing fact that Tim had tried to ask out his Marco. _He looks so incredibly adorable._ But now Tim cam swirling back into his thoughts, and he got angry. _That stupid little shit. He's at it _again_. When is he ever going to give it a rest?_

Outwardly, Dylan said, smiling convincingly, "But somehow I think I understood it. We can all hang out tonight, Marco. It's alright as long...as long as I'm there with you, because I'm not comfortable with you hanging out alone with him. He...might try something, but if it's the three of us then it's okay, babe."

Marco, who had braced himself for Dylan's 'hell no,' looked surprisedly up at him. Dylan looked back at him with amused and warm eyes, and Marco grinned sunnily. He hugged Dylan tightly, whispered a 'thank you' into his chest, and took off down the hallway, not wanting to delay either of them for any longer.

Dylan looked after him before he, too, turned and left.

* * *

"Marco! Dylan!" Paige called up as she heard the door bell ring. She knew Tim was going to hang out with them tonight, and she also knew Dylan wasn't too happy about it. His only consolation was that Marco had made sure that if he and Tim were hanging out, then Dylan would be there too.

Paige didn't blame Marco or anything for having Dylan feel like this; he was too incredibly naïve to possibly know what was really going on. However, she did feel resentment towards Tim, who was well aware of the fact that Marco belonged to Dylan. But he just wouldn't leave them alone!

"Hey, uh, Paige?" Tim greeted, unsure if that really was her name.

"Yeah, hey Tim," she replied. "Marco! Dylan!" she shouted again.

"Yeah, hold on Paige!" Marco yelled down to her. He was waiting in their room for Dylan to come out of the bathroom. He was wearing a light blue shirt underneath a white collared one, a jean jacket that was buttoned up, dark jeans, and a beige hat.

A little bored, Marco picked up his guitar and began playing Dylan's song, humming along. Dylan suddenly opened the door, and Marco stopped and smiled at him. He was wearing a simple light grey sweater with light jeans.

Dylan walked over to him, swooped down and planted a kiss on Marco's cheek. "That's my favourite song, you know," he told him sincerely.

"It better be, Michalchuk," Marco teased, pulling Dylan up with him.

Dylan winked at him before he took his hand and descended the stairs. Tim was wearing a black leather jacket and dark jeans.

He completely ignored Dylan and looked at Marco with admiration. _Wow...he...just...wow,_ Tim's mind stammered.

Marco was starting to feel uncomfortable by Tim's gawking, and Dylan could see that. Squeezing Marco's hand, Dylan glowered at Tim and said, "Should we go then?"

"Oh, um, yeah," Tim got out. Instead of seeing a movie, as Dylan and Marco had seen one the other night, they were going to go ice skating on the still frozen lake that the couple had been to before.

Tim's eyes twinkled at Marco as he held up his skates. "Ready to skate?"

Marco grinned, "I'm ready to fail at it."

Dylan and Tim both laughed, and the elder boy tugged Marco out the door.

Dylan unlocked the door and got in the driver's seat as Tim got in the back. Tim patted the seat next to him invitingly, and Dylan tensed, looking at Marco. The Italian boy smiled apologetically at Tim before he slid into the front passenger seat next to Dylan. The older boy looked triumphantly into the rearview mirror, but Marco's unintentional rejection didn't even faze Tim. The whole ride there Tim sat on the edge of his seat so he'd be between Marco's head and Dylan's. He cracked jokes to Marco the whole way, and Dylan forced a smile on his face. On the inside, however, he was seething.

When they got to the river, Marco got his and Dylan's skates out of the back. Suddenly, in one swift movement, Dylan scooped Marco up and ran wildly to the river bank. Marco gave a shout of surprise at first but started giggling as Dylan ran, laughing himself.

Tim angrily stared at Dylan's back as he got his own skates and ran too. "Don't drop him," Tim said loudly.

Dylan gave him a sharp look as he stopped before putting on a strained smile. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that. I've never dropped Marco once," Dylan nuzzled his face into Marco's hair. Marco blushed but looked happy.

Tim cleared his throat, barely able to suppress yet another harsh look in Dylan's direction. He sat as Dylan put Marco down, all three of them quickly lacing their skates. Both Dylan and Tim simultaneously hopped onto the ice and held out their hand for Marco. The two glared at each other before looking expectantly at Marco. The Italian boy looked at them perpexingly before just shaking his head and taking both hands.

Marco was extremely wobbly on the ice, and instantly clung to Dylan, who was closer, for support. Over Marco's head, Dylan smirked smugly at Tim, who scowled back. Everything wasn't exactly going as planned. Marco seemed to be having more fun with Dylan than him...and he began to feel like a third wheel.

_No, I'm not just going to give up, _Tim thought determindly.

He skated over to them and grabbed Marco above the elbow. "Need help?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes. Tim all but yanked Marco from Dylan's grasp and towed him away slightly, smiling. Marco was surprised, but he was too concentrated on trying to balance to really think clearly.

He towed Marco around for a bit, letting him get a feel for it, before he said cheerfully, "Okay, I'm going to let you go."

"What?" Marco panicked, holding on to Tim harder. Dylan, meanwhile was watching him. He supposed he should be the bigger person and allow Marco to have some innocent fun with Tim. However, if he tried anything...

"Don't worry, Marco. I'll be right here," Tim said soothingly.

Marco looked at him doubtfully, but nodded.

Tim slowly let go of Marco, and the Italian boy instantly threw his arms out to his side for balance.

Marco laughed giddily as he stood upright, grinning.

Tim smiled widely back and encouraged, "Great Marco! Okay, now push off with your feet...yeah from the side...slowly, baby steps..."

Carefully, Marco pushed off, taking almost unnoticeably small strides, but he was moving at least. And staying on his feet.

Marco was beaming brilliantly, the sun shining on his dark hair.

Dylan felt jealousy start to rage through him. _He_ wanted to be the one to teach Marco how to skate, not this guy. True, he had taken Marco out on the ice before, but then it was mostly Dylan towing him around.

Suddenly Marco started to wobble, and Dylan tensed, ready to shoot towards him if he fell. And then...he did, but Tim caught him in his arms and helped him back up, holding him longer then was neccessary.

Dylan skated towards them as fast as he could, stopping and looking at Marco. "You okay?"

But Marco was grinning. "Yeah!"

Dylan chuckled. Taking Marco's hands he towed him away from Tim now. "You wanna keep trying?"

Marco nodded vigorously. Staring down at him feet and holding on to Dylan's warm hands, Marco started pushing off more strongly and with larger strides.

The older boy looked down at him proud and amused eyes. Marco's face was priceless; he looked like a little kid on Christmas morning.

The younger boy looked up at him ecstatically. _I'm actually skating!_ Marco cheered in his head. It was pretty bad skating, but oh well. You can't win them all.

Tim skated over to them, stopping just in front of Dylan, spraying him with snow.

"Gah," Dylan cried, shielding his face and in result letting go of Marco.

"_Dyl!_" Marco screamed, starting to wobble dangerously at the surprise.

Tim grabbed the Italian boy's waist and shoulder in an attempt to stop him from falling, however he kept his hands there even when Marco was upright and steady. Tim glared at Dylan accusingly, but Marco was still grinning. The Italian boy reached over and brushed snow off Dylan's shoulders.

Dylan just stared pointedly at where Tim's hands were, and Tim just winked smugly at him. The older boy growled slightly, and Marco looked up at him confused. That was when he finally saw that neither Tim nor Dylan seemed to be happy with the company.

Marco sighed. His head hung down a little and started of towards the river bank, doing his best not to fall. Dylan and Tim looked after him, feeling ashamed of themselves. They hadn't meant to make _Marco_ unhappy. Quite the opposite actually.

Marco sat down and unlaced his skates, ignoring the two when they joined him silently. He was both angry at himself for making them have to hang out when the obviously despised each other and not noticing it, and upset at them for not even _trying_ to be friends.

Being done before either of them, he got up and started towards Dylan's car, too busy being lost in his own misery to notice the way Dylan and Tim's eyes were filled with remorse.

They both wished they could be friends just to make Marco happy...or at least not make it so conspicuous that they would sooner chop off their arms.

Marco leaned up against the car and waited for Dylan to unlock it, averting his gaze from them. They drove back in an awkward silence. The only time someone spoke was when Tim told Dylan where his house was.

As Tim got out, he looked back at Marco wistfully and said, "I'm sorry Marco. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Marco just nodded, not looking at him.

When they got to Dylan's house, they walked up the stairs and got into bed. Hesitantly, Dylan wrapped his arms around Marco's waist, his hands on his stomach, and pulled him closer. He was relieved when Marco didn't fight it, but Dylan was still worried.

"I'm sorry Marco, I shouldn't have-" Dylan tried to say.

"No, Dyl, it was my fault," Marco whispered back sadly. "I shouldn't have made you guys hang out when it was obvious you didn't like each other."

Dylan's arms tightened around him. "We shouldn't have fought, but we just...can't really see eye to eye. I'm sorry, we were being really childish."

Marco turned around and stared, fixated on the older boy's shirt. He started fiddling and twirling it as he spoke, "I just...really wanted everything to work out that I didn't see that you guys weren't happy. _I'm _s-"

Dylan cut in, "No, Marco don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

Marco cuddled up closer to Dylan and closed his eyes, exhausted.

At least until he remembered his nightmare.

The younger boy's eyes flew open, his face against Dylan's broad chest. Dylan's breathing had begun to even out as he fell towards sleep, not noticing how odd it was that Marco's had quickened.

_No, no, no, no I can't sleep! _Marco cried in his head. _I can't...have the same nightmare...what if...what if I...I don't sleep and nothing happens? What if the reason these things happen is because I dream them? If I don't dream...then maybe they won't come true!_ In Marco's exhausted brain, this all made sense. _I'll just...never sleep...how hard could it be? Probably not too bad since there's so many insomniacs now-a-days._

It turned out to be very hard, however, as Marco was extremely tired and...bored. Dylan was asleep, Paige was asleep, the _world_ was asleep. He couldn't just lie in bed and be tempted to fall unconscious. He needed to do something that was both time-consuming and quiet. Unfortunately, that ruled out Marco's guitar.

Sighing, Marco wriggled out of Dylan's arms, hoping desperately that he wouldn't wake up his boyfriend.

"Mmph!" Dylan grunted in sleepy disappointment. He wasn't conscious enough to really register that Marco had crawled out of bed, but he did feel the lack of another person safe in his arms. He knew he was gone, without really knowing that he knew. Confusing, yes, but that's what happens when you're in a limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Marco froze in fright at first, before he saw that Dylan simply shuffled the blankets a little and started snoring. He then began to force back a fit of giggles at the sight of Dylan lying sprawled out on the bed, his mouth lolling open. _Is that what he really looks like in his sleep without me there?_ Marco laughed in his head.

Marco slid all the way out of bed and stood there in the dark, slightly puzzled. _Ummm...okay I'm out...but what do I do now?_

He started chewing on his cheek subconsciously, trying to figure out what he could do for the next eight hours. _I can't play my guitar...it's not like I can leave the house...what can I do? _Marco thought. _It'll have to be something in this room...I don't want to wake up anyone by stomping throughout the hallways..._

Marco began quietly tip-toeing and searching slowly through the black room, doing his best not to make much noise. Marco finally just settled on a piece of paper and a pencil.

He looked at the blank sheet skeptically. He'd never really drawn before...except when he was five, but that didn't really count as it was mostly scribbles of bean-shaped dogs and square houses. No, he'd never really drawn and _tried_ to make it realistic. Where was he supposed to begin? What was he even going to draw?

The Italian boy was tempted to draw Dylan, but he was afraid he'd mess his features up. No, he wasn't going to even think about capturing his physique until he became really good at it. _Whoa, wait...I don't even know if I'm going to like it._

Marco layed himself down on the hard wood floor, resting on his stomach and placing the paper on the floor. Twiddling the pencil between his fingers, Marco tiredly thought of something he could doodle.

_A tree I guess...hmph._ Marco thought unmotivatingly. He began brushing his pencil gently across the page. He started drawing a tree in the background, until he grumpily noticed that he drew it too small. Instead of crumpling it up, he just decided on drawing a couple more trees to accompany it, making it look more full. _It needs...grass,_ the younger boy thought, and began creating a pathway with grass along its edges.

When he was done, he held it up to the moonlight glowing through and looked at it critically. _Eh, it's alright,_ Marco nodded to himself. _It's definitely better then I thought it would be._ He was actually a little proud of it. Sure, it wouldn't win him any awards, but for a first shot it was pretty good.

Marco looked at the clock and was surprised to see that he had burned almost an hour and a half doing that. He raised an eyebrow in surprise and delight. _Hmm..._ It seemed he had found his distraction.

* * *

Marco quickly glanced at the clock and panickly saw that Dylan's alarm was about to go off in two minutes. Tossing his fifth sheet on paper behind his duffel bag, Marco blearily slinked under the covers and ever so gently placed Dylan's arms around him like they were when he fell asleep.

The alarm went off then and Marco quickly shut his eyes, pretending to just wake up while he cringed on the inside; he _hated_ the sound of Dylan's alarm.

Dylan opened his eyes sleepily, giving Marco a small smile. The younger boy groaned and buried his face into Dylan's chest, convincingly looking like he wanted to sleep some more. Which, all together, wasn't completely untrue. Marco _did_ want to sleep, what he _didn't_ want was to dream about his father.

Dylan ran his fingers through Marco's hair, whispering, "Wake up, honey."

Marco bit back the urge to cry, _'I'm already awake! I never even went to sleep!'_

Instead, he smiled tiredly up at him and murmured, "Alright, alright, I'm up," and yawned.

Dylan ruffled the younger boy's hair and sat up, stretching. Marco hopped out of bed, so over-tired that he doubted he'd ever be able to sleep again, and went to the shower. He, for the second time in his entire life, turned the shower to freezing cold.

Bracing himself, he hopped in and gave a loud gasp as the ice water hit his skin, water colder this time then before. Marco as fast as he possibly could, scrubbed shampoo and conditioner into his hair and scrubbed his body with soap, teeth chattering.

Marco wrapped a towel around his waist, and another around his shoulders when he got out of the shower. Trying to still his shivering, Marco crept into their room. Dylan was lounging on his bed, trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep before he noticed his obviously cold boyfriend.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Why did you take another cold shower? I thought you loved your blisteringly hot showers?"

"Oh yuh-you n-know, it w-wakes me up f-faster," Marco stuttered as Dylan got up and walked over to him.

"I'll say," Dylan said, touching Marco's slightly quivering hands. "You're going to get hypothermia if you keep this up." Dylan pulled him into a warm hug, wincing slightly at the iciness of Marco's skin but refusing to let go.

"N-n-naw, I'm f-fine," Marco almost bit his tongue as he forced those words through his teeth.

Dylan gave him a look.

Marco pulled away and went to grab his clothes. He hurried back into the bathroom, got dressed, brushed his teeth and blow dried his hair. Feeling warmer, Marco walked back into the bedroom and found Dylan dozing on the bed again. Smirking, Marco nudged the older boy awake again and said, "Go. Take your shower."

Dylan peeked up at him and smiled. "Ah, finally able to talk normally again?"

Marco lightly smacked Dylan's shoulder. "Get!" He shooed Dylan out of bed.

"At least I don't have to worry about you taking all the hot water this time," Dylan muttered. The elder boy grinned and ducked as Marco threw a pillow at his head.

Alone in their room, Marco looked longingly at the bed. He shook his head hard, trying to clear it, but that only resulted in the room spinning around him and a more foggy brain. _Better get used to it, _Marco thought tiredly. _Cause this is how it's going to be for a little while._

Haha so hint double hint for anyone who reads this (even if you've already reviewed one of my chapters!) reviews help my motivation to keep updating so I think it goes without saying to do so ASAP :)

I'll give you cookies :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **I've decided that I _may_ have over-reacted about the reviews...Sure, they're still very wanted and appreciated, but I'm writing because I like it and it makes me happy :) Besides, I'd rather people reviewed because they want to, not because they feel pressured or anything :P haha so I'm going to continue to update and I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it :)

**Disclaimer: **Just to make sure everyone knows...I own nothing. As sad as it is to me...

* * *

It had been a week since Marco had really slept. He would go to bed about two, or three hours before Dylan's alarm would go off, and thankfully he didn't have time to dream some horrible nightmare. But the Italian boy was incredibly, _impossibly_ tired. Pretty close to being too tired to function. His eyes would go into phases where they went fuzzy and sometimes he'd lose his sight for a few seconds all together. Marco occasionally swore he'd see things darting out of his line of vision, and he'd hear things no one else seemed to. He felt constantly hungry (though he somehow resisted eating everything in sight), and he'd get these hot and cold flashes that only made him feel more miserable. The younger boy was honestly afraid he was losing his mind.

However Marco had still kept up with his late-night drawings and felt extremely pleased with his work. Yet he hid the pictures from Dylan, scared that he'd find out about his constant all-nighters and scold him for it.

And every morning he'd take a freezing shower, and every morning he'd notice how dark the circles were under his eyes.

Unfortunately, Dylan too had noticed how tired Marco looked. It was odd, because he'd always wake up to find Marco fast asleep in his arms, yet every day he'd look more and more exhausted. Like he never had slept at all. It confused and worried Dylan, but he wasn't sure if he should ask him about it or not. It could very well be nothing at all, but he was on the fence about it.

Marco walked sluggishly to his locker, greeting Tim as usual as the youngest boy walked up to him. It was like some sort of routine.

"Hey Marco," Tim replied back, worriedly noticing how dark the circles on Marco's face were. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I slept great," Marco remarked, stifling a yawn.

Tim looked skeptically at him. "You sure, cause you look-"

"Gross, bad, tired, yeah I know, I know," Marco said grumpily.

"No, no!" Tim said hurriedly. Marco didn't look _bad_, he just looked tired. Normally those two went hand in hand, but when it concerned Marco they were completely different. "I never think you look bad Marco, I was just saying you look a little tired. They're completely different things."

Marco laughed, "Since when?"

Tim grinned and winked, "Since it concerned you del Rossi."

Marco rolled his eyes and shut his locker. "Good bye Tim," Marco said pointedly, chuckling and starting off towards his homeroom.

Tim smiled slightly before he went to his own homeroom.

* * *

It was lunch time when Tim bumped into Dylan on the way to the cafeteria.

They paused to glower at each other, Tim's previously good mood replaced by a crushing feeling of hatred.

"Watch where you're going Michalchuk," Tim hissed at him, teeth clenched.

"Why don't you, Gerallde," Dylan replied, his voice filled with hostility.

"Ooo, big words. Just watch yourself." Tim smirked.

Dylan laughed, loudly and with relish. "Oh, that's great. _Me_ watch myself from _you?_"

Tim's face flushed slightly before he glared at him and said, "Yeah. Marco seems to be getting more and more friendly to me lately..." Tim trailed off suggestively.

Dylan chortled again before he winked at him sarcastically, "Just think. While you're so busy trying to get Marco into your bed, he's already in mine."

Tim laughed coldly. "Ha! That's funny Michalchuk."

"No, I'm actually serious," Dylan smirked at him. "He's been sleeping with me every night since he got out of the hospital."

Tim gaped at him.

"What? Where else did you think he'd stay after his father kicked him out?" Dylan asked. He started passed him, until he paused, leaned in close to Tim's ear and whispered, "And let me just say he looks _so_ cute when he first wakes up. Oh," he added, looking straight into Tim's eyes. "And when he first gets out of the shower."

Tim's face turned beet red, glowering at Dylan furiously and with all the hate he could manage. _Dylan...sleeps with Marco...and he saw Marco...in the shower? God, I'm going to kill him. _"You're a dead man, you piece of shit."

Dylan was some-what surprised but oddly satisfied to hear such language come from Tim's mouth. It meant he had got to him. "Hey, it's not _my_ fault Marco loves me and not you," Dylan egged him on.

Tim swore he was about to punch him, until he saw Marco walking by their hallway. The Italian boy stopped short and looked at them curiously. He was positive he just saw them glaring murderously at each other. Or, rather, Tim was glaring at Dylan and Dylan was smirking like no other.

"Uh, hey Dylan, and uh...Tim?" Marco said nervously and curiously.

Tim, with a threatening look at Dylan marched over to Marco quickly. Knocking his books on to the floor, Tim grabbed Marco's face...and kissed him. Hard.

Marco wore a look of complete shock, his lips unresponsive. However, that didn't matter much to Tim at all. Just having his lips on Marco's was amazing enough, and he began to kiss him more roughly and desperately. Marco was frozen in his spot, eyes wide open.

Dylan roared in fury and ran down the hallway, punching Tim off of his boyfriend. "You _asshole!_" Dylan shouted, punching Tim again. _How _dare_ he kiss my boyfriend! _My_ Marco!_

Marco back pedaled towards the lockers and leaned against it, frozen, his mind numb. Slowly he sunk down to a sitting position, eyes blank and unmoving.

Tim's nose was bleeding profusely and Dylan continued to pummel him, not running out of steam even by a little bit. The older boy was powered by jealous rage, and he couldn't get the infuriating and heart breaking site of someone other than him kissing his Marco out of his head. His only comfort was that Marco didn't kiss him back. Swearing, shouting, and punching Tim...he was damn lucky no teachers were anywhere near them.

Tim tried his best to fend Dylan off, but it was no use; Dylan was too strong. He didn't regret kissing Marco, however. Tim had wanted to do that since he first saw him, and he was willing to take any punishment he got for it, no matter how painful.

Dylan swung his fist one more time and knocked Tim out cold. Panting he glared murderously at him before turning his attention to the stiff and unblinking Marco.

Crouching down next to him, Dylan looking into his vacant and dark circled eyes, whispering worriedly, "Marco?"

But Marco couldn't hear him. _Tim...he...and...what...just...uh...can't...no..._

"Marco? Honey?"

_I can't...believe...no...now...can't...friends...how could...Tim just...WHY?_

Dylan was starting to get seriously worried. Shaking Marco slightly, he said urgently, "Marco?"

_Can't..._

_'Marco?'_

_No...I can't...how can I possibly _look_ at Dylan now? He's...he's going to hate me,_ Marco thought anguishly.

"Marco? Please," Dylan whispered.

Marco heard the concern in Dylan's voice, and relief flooded the younger boy as he deducted that Dylan didn't hate him at least.

Dylan was equally as relieved when he saw life had begun to fill up Marco's normally active but now dead eyes. Marco slowly turned his head to look Dylan in the eye, not sure what to expect. Dylan thankfully hugged Marco to him, kissing his hair. "Marco, first of all I want you to understand one thing," Dylan started off hurriedly. "I'm not mad at you at all, that wasn't your fault. None of that was your fault."

Marco wrapped his arms around Dylan's waist in his own hug, leaning his head on Dylan's shoulder and sniffling, "I'm sorry Dylan. I...I didn't think...I had...no idea-"

"Shhh, honey, I told you it wasn't your fault!" Dylan consoled him.

Marco looked sorrowly at Tim. "He used to be my best friend, Dylan. I-" Marco didn't know how to finish that sentence, as Dylan's arms had tensed around him. "I know I need to stop hanging around him, but..." Marco sighed. "It's _not_ going to be easy."

Dylan sighed, loudly and for a long time. As much as he hated himself for it, he knew he couldn't stand to see Marco like this. "I hate him, Marco, more than anything, but...I'd hate myself even more if I made you unhappy by making you stop seeing your...your friend."

"I need to talk to him," Marco said. "I need to let him know that he can't...like...me. That if we're going to be friends he can't keep trying to be something...other...than _just_ friends, because as long as I have you, Dyl, we'll never be anything more." Marco looked him seriously in the eye. "You'll never have to worry about that."

Dylan's eyes twinkled happily and he leaned down to kiss him sweetly. "I love you, Marco. I know I've told you this many times before, but I...I can't even begin to describe..." Dylan was at a loss for words as to how to explain it.

"I think I can relate," Marco smiled.

Tim began to groan. "Ugh, my head's killing me."

"You deserved it, punk," Dylan replied coldly.

Tim laughed weakly, peering up at Dylan sarcastically, not noticing Marco beside him. "Jealous much?"

"Oh, I was. Insanely, _impossibly_ so," Dylam remarked simply and truthfully. Marco blushed, feeling oddly flattered. "I was about to kill your ass. For real."

"Well you did a good job of it," Tim groaned again.

Marco grinned at his humour, but caught himself and fixed his face into an emotionless one. Dylan saw this and grimaced on the inside. One, because Marco actually _smiled_ at something Tim said. And two, because Marco was trying to hide it because of Dylan.

"But I'm definitely better now," Dylan told him calmly.

"Oh? And why's that, _Michalchuk?_ I kissed the love of our lives. How do you know I haven't stolen Marco away from you?" Tim wincingly sat up and froze at the sight of the Italian boy.

"Because, Tim," Marco answered him, hurt in his eyes. "I love having you as a friend," Dylan winced quite noticably, and Tim looked hopeful. However, Marco hurried on, "But not anything more than that. You're like my brother and one of my best friends, but Tim...I don't...like you like that. At all." Marco's face was full of sympathy, care, apology, and sorrow. The younger of the three's face fell majorly, looking beyond hurt. Marco took a deep breath and continued. As painful as this was for the both of them, it needed to be said. "Dylan's...he's the love of my life. I'm sorry, and I _really_ wish we could just...be friends...but..." Marco hesitated. "If you can't live with that then..."

There. He was done.

Dylan's eyes flickered between them, both wearing similar expressions.

Suddenly, Tim's face hardened determindly. "Marco, I can't just give up on you. I'm the stubborn type, you of all people should know that. And I know for a fact that if you'd just let go of Dylan, you could be happy with me," Tim ignored Dylan's furious look. "And I also know that you won't want to stop being my friend, even though you know I like you a lot. No matter what Michalchuk says, I know you like me too, and if you'd just...let yourself see it..."

"Tim," Marco said almost harshly. "Why in the world would I give up someone I love as much as Dylan? For what? I'll never love anyone as much as him, Tim." He sighed. "It's just not possible."

"Maybe not," Tim replied acceptingly. "But you can still fall in love with other people."

Marco snorted, getting seriously annoyed. "Again, why would I even bother?"

"Because Marco," Tim was starting to inch his way closer to the middle-aged boy. Disgusted, Dylan dragged Marco behind him defensively and glared at the youngest of the three. "I _know_ deep down you can love me, but you're letting yourself be blinded by _this_," he waved his hand towards Dylan. "And not allowing yourself to be happy with me."

Marco groaned exasperately. "I _am_ happy Tim. I love him. What part of this discussion are you not getting?" Dylan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye; Marco looked like he was so exhausted he was going to faint.

"Well, for one, how I can't be your boyfriend instead of this joker," Tim stated. Dylan growled slightly, placing his arm protectively around Marco's waist (yet still situating themselves so Marco was shielded by Dylan's body) like he was afraid Tim was going to lunge at him or something. "How he can even _begin_ to make you happy. He doesn't understand you like I do, baby-"

Dylan snarled more ferociously and loudly this time, warning Tim to watch his tongue. "The only reason I'm not tearing into you right now is because Marco looks like he's about to pass out and I don't want to leave him like that." Dylan gently pulled the younger boy up with him and held on to him steadily. Tim, surprised, finally noticed how tired Marco really looked. "Since you're so absorbed with you and your own self-righteousness, I felt like I should point that out," Dylan told him sarcastically, noticing Tim's expression.

Marco had spaced out after he had finished talking and his eyelids drooped and he swayed dangerously. And suddenly, without warning, Marco slipped into unconsciousness.

"Whoa!" Dylan got out as he quickly grabbed a hold of Marco and lifted him more securely in his arms. He looked worriedly down at Marco's weary face before looking up to glare at Tim. He then half-ran to the nurse's office.

Their nurse, Mrs. Kravis, looked up from her desk in surprise as Dylan all but burst through the door. She saw the smaller boy in his arms and didn't bombard him with questions. Instead, Mrs. Kravis just ushered him to lay Marco on one of the few beds in the tiny room. He then pulled up a seat right next to his boyfriend as the nurse came back with a check-in sheet. The check-in sheet just let any teachers or staff know why they weren't in class and the nurses put them into the computer. They would've let the students check themselves into the computer, but there was just so many mandatory things that it would take forever for the nurses to teach each specific student how to do it. It was just so much easier to let the kids place check marks next to the symptoms that they had.

Ryan walked right by the nurse's office, books by his side, until he stopped mid-stride. Back pedaling he peered into the office again. He had seen it right. There was a distraught Dylan sitting in a chair next to a bed.

"Hey man, what's up?" Ryan asked curiously, looking pointedly around at Dylan's surroundings. He had the whole lunch period to waste as he wasn't hungry.

Dylan looked up. "Oh, hey Ryan." He waved his hand in front of Marco to show why he was there.

Ryan raised his eyesbrows as he took a seat next to him. "Whoa, what happened?"

But before Dylan could answer, Ms. Marnna, Mrs. Kravis' mean, old, cranky secretary stormed up to him. "Excuse me Mr. Chandler, why are you here?" Ms. Marnna growled.

Ryan looked at her in disrespect. "What? I suppose it's against the law to visit a friend at the nurse's office during a _lunch_ period, eh Corale?" Ryan retorted, using Ms. Marnna's first name as he crossed his arms. He decided to not mention that Dylan was here too and she had singled _him_ out.

Her nostrils flared at him. "I can write you up for that Chandler," she threatened.

He snorted. "Go ahead. You don't have much of a case though, sweetheart."

Everyone knew Ryan was impossible to scare with threats of detention or suspension, and was the only kid in the entire school the hag secretary actually was a little intimidated by. As hard as she tried, she could never bring herself to write Ryan up for fear of the rumours that had gone around about him egging teachers who wrote him up's houses and once he was once suspected of kidnapping a teacher's dog.

However, Dylan knew the truth. Ryan had never done any of that stuff, but didn't give a damn that other people thought he did. He didn't mean to seem so scary; Dylan knew how big of a goofball and a softie he really was, but to people who didn't really know him, he was one intimidating dude. Though that didn't mean he couldn't be scary if he wanted to be. When he got angry, there was absolutely no hiding from it.

She glared at him with all the hate she could muster before storming away. Ryan rolled his eyes looking at Dylan sarcastically before he went back to normal. "Seriously though, what happened to Mr. Dream-man over here?" He cocked his head in Marco's direction, vague concern in his eyes.

Dylan unhappily shook his head. "Well, it's going to be kind of hard to explain, but you see there's this guy named Tim-"

Ryan mock glared at him. "Don't tell me you're cheating on del Rossi. It took you _forever _to get the guts to ask him out in the first place. After a lot of interrogation and much-needed butt kicking on my part."

Dylan gave him a _don't-even-joke-about-that_ look. "No. There's no way in hell I'd ever...not with that scum bag." He took a deep, steadying breath. "He's younger then Marco, but he's been trying to get with _him_ for god knows how long. Anyway, we got into a fight and Tim...kissed Marco."

Ryan's mouth fell open and his eyes adapted that harsh glint in them.

Dylan nodded at him, as if to say, _yeah, I know._ "Marco went into utter shock and I gladly beat the crap out of that little shit. However when Tim awoke he and Marco sort of got into a little fight, but the problem of the moment is I don't think he's been sleeping. He fell unconscious very unexpectedly." Dylan frowned, looking severly upset. "And look," Dylan pointed at the very dark circles under the younger boy's eyes. "Look at that. He looks impossibly tired."

Dylan looked from Marco to Ryan sadly. "I swear, someone's out to get him or something. Everything bad that could possibly happen, happens to him. And he's the last person to deserve it."

Ryan had never seen Dylan so melancholy as he did when Marco was concerned. Dylan was Ryan's best friend and Marco seemed like a pretty good guy. He honestly wished he could fix everything for them.

Luckily he did know how he could fix one problem, however.

"What does Tim look like?" Ryan asked, trying to keep all hostility from his voice.

Dylan suspected why Ryan wanted to know, but that didn't stop him from telling him anyway.

Ryan grinned maliciously at him. "Don't worry Michalchuk, your 'ol pal Ryan's going to take care of this one." He went to leave, but stopped when he heard a small voice moan.

Dylan's head shot up to look at his boyfriend. Ryan hurriedly jumped back to his seat and they both eagerly watched as Marco opened his eyes.

"Hey," Marco croaked out, giving them a weak smile. Until he realized how strange it was that they were here. He rubbed his eyes before looking around. "Uh, why am I in...the nurse's office?" he asked, completely confused. He looked at Dylan. "Weren't we, like, just in the hallway with Captain In-Denial?"

Ryan chuckled slightly but stopped himself short as he saw the look on Dylan's face.

"Marco," Dylan said seriously. "You haven't been sleeping have you." It wasn't a question.

Marco appeared some-what surprised, and self-consciously looked away. "Why would you think that?"

Dylan struggled to refrain from rolling his eyes angrily. "Because, Marco, you fell unconscious standing up, and just to let you know in case you haven't looked in the mirror lately, you have huge circles under your eyes darker than night itself."

Marco fidgeted a little but didn't say anything. What was there to say?

"I need to get you home so you can sleep," Dylan told him gently. "And then you can tell me why you stopped in the first place, because frankly I'm at a loss as to what the explanation is."

Marco looked like he was about to object, but he just sighed and nodded. He was far too sleepy to argue with Dylan right now. Part of him wanted Dylan to know so he could comfort and reassure him, but another part didn't want to seem like such a baby in front of him either. He was conflicted about what he wanted, though he knew he'd have to tell Dylan at some point; it was inevitable as Dylan wouldn't rest until Marco told him, and would get more and more infuriated the longer Marco put it off. But right now Marco's biggest worry was stopping himself from dreaming about his dad.

Marco slid of the bed he was on and Dylan caught him, as he looked like he was about to fall over. Ryan gave Marco an encouraging smile, and Dylan a mischievous one. He was planning on hunting down this "Tim" guy and teach him for messing around in his friends' love lives. Other than Paige, Ryan was their relationship's biggest supporter and he'd be damned if he let some punk ruin it.

Mrs. Kravis wrote them all a note, two for the couple so they could leave, and one for Ryan so he wouldn't get in trouble for skipping lunch period. Dylan half carried Marco out as Ryan slinked into the hallway, blending into the crowd of oncoming students as the bell rang.

Dylan sat Marco in his seat and they drove home in silence. It wasn't all together an uncomfortable silence, but Marco still felt ashamed and self-conscious of himself and avoided Dylan's frequent glances in his direction.

Dylan chewed on his cheek subconsciously as his eyes acted like ping-pong ball, bouncing from Marco's face to the road and back again. He was worried Marco would pass out or have another panic attack or _something._ The older boy was convinced; Marco had to be cursed or jinxed or something. _No one_ had that much crap happen to him in such a short period of time unless the world was out to eliminate him. And Dylan was determined to protect Marco from whatever wanted to take the best thing in his life away from him.

Marco, on the other hand, suddenly felt like Dylan was getting annoyed with him. That he was getting extremely tired of having to save him and put up with his cowardliness. Marco felt dread sweep over him and tears pricked the corners of his eyes. _Shut up, stop it, don't you _dare_ cry, _Marco screamed in his head, furious with himself. _That'll only make him like you less, so just stop it!_ It really didn't make sense for him to think Dylan was falling out of love with him, when he so obviously displayed how much the younger boy meant to him, not only back there with Tim, but every day.

Marco was still terrifyingly lost in thought as Dylan pulled up into the driveway. The older boy had a pained look on his face when he noticed the anxiety on Marco's face. He sighed, wanting badly to understand, but that only heightened Marco's fear. The Italian boy sat immobile in his seat, not necessarily by choice.

Dylan ran around and pulled Marco out. He somehow managed to keep Marco in his arms as he unlocked the front door and carried him upstairs.

"You know, I don't think I've ever actually _walked_ up your stairs," Marco murmured suddenly.

Dylan burst out laughing. "If I had it my way I'd never have to put you down," Dylan whispered into Marco ear and he blushed and smiled at him sleepily. He forgot about his fear, and he in his tired stupor couldn't even remember why he was afraid in the first place.

The older boy layed him down on the bed and tucked him in, smoothing his hair away from his face.

Marco exhaustedly closed his eyes. Not fully conscious or aware that he was speaking, Marco muttered, "So you don't hate me, Dyl?"

Dylan looked at him, stunned. "Why on earth-" he began before he noticed that Marco was fast asleep. He pulled his desk chair up beside the bed and looked at him, puzzled. _What would make him think...?_

Dylan just shook his head. Marco confused him to the point of madness sometimes, but he had to admit; there was something alluring about the fact that he always kept him guessing, and he hadn't had a single boring day since he met him.

* * *

Ryan kept his eyes peeled for anyone who looked like how Dylan described Tim. Little did he know, however, that Tim was currently in the nurse's office being treated for his inflicted injuries. He knew Dylan had taken Marco to the nurse when he passed out, and he wanted to go with the Italian boy. Unfortunately, he didn't think he could take another beating just yet from the easily enraged Dylan Michalchuk, so he waited in the hallway until he saw Marco and Dylan leave the school through the side door.

Ryan was tapping his foot impatiently and twirling his pencil between his fingers as he thought about where the little twerp Tim could be. _Well, Dylan did say he beat him up after he planted a big one on Marco,_ Ryan suddenly felt less murderous towards this Tim guy. _Maybe the perv learned his lesson._

He figured he wouldn't look so carefully for him; life had a funny way of making the things you want to find impossible to until you aren't really looking for them anymore. Sighing, Ryan reluctantly tuned back into the slow drawl of his history teacher. Not that he didn't like history, it was just that he had one of those teachers that was so monotone you were tempted to check his back for batteries.

"In 1534 the bold French navigator, Jacques Cartier, entered the mouth of the St. Lawrence River and though Cartier returned several times, permanent settlement did not begin until seventy-one years later, when Samuel de Champlain established Port Royal on the present site of Annapolis Royal, Nova Scotia..."

_God help me, _Ryan groaned silently in his head. He was bored out of his mind.

* * *

Dylan was rummaging idily through his things, bored and still waiting for Marco to wake up. He glanced at Marco's peaceful face, and smiled warmly at him. He suddenly found a stack of papers underneath his and Marco's things.

Intrigued, Dylan grabbed them and looked astonished. There were countless pages of beautifully drawn pictures, ranging from sceneries to animals. He caught his breath; they looked so _real_. Dylan sifted threw them in awe. _Now_ he knew what Marco had done during the night instead of sleeping!

Suddenly he heard Marco move under the covers and yawn. Dylan looked up and found Marco rubbing his eyes sleepily and grinned stupidly at him. He gave him a crooked smirk as he waved the pictures in the air. "Now I know what you've been up to during all hours of the night."

Marco blushed slightly, looking self-conscious again. "Um, I bet you're wondering about that..."

Dylan raised his eyebrows pointedly and nodded exuberantly, "Oh yeah."

Marco shifted restlessly as he looked uneasily up at Dylan. "Well...I...um," he didn't seem to want to start. He sighed and looked away. "Fine, I had sort of a nightmare about my father and I...was afraid it would come true so I thought if I didn't sleep somehow it would stop it from happening."

Dylan closed his eyes. _Why does this stuff happen to him? _He then looked into those anxious eyes. Something else was nagging at him though. _'So you don't hate me, Dyl?'_

"Why would you think I hated you, Marco?"

Marco looked taken by surprise and slightly confused. "Where'd you-?"

"You asked me that before you went to sleep." Dylan looked into his eyes. "You asked me if I hated you or not."

Marco looked embarrassed again. "Oh," he muttered. The younger boy looked so feeble to Dylan right now, and all he wanted right now was pull him into his arms and hug him. Make him feel better, because honestly, Marco looked like he was about to pass out again. Which is exactly what Dylan did. He sat himself down next to Marco on the bed and hugged him tightly, trying to show him that hate was the absolute farthest thing from his mind where Marco was concerned.

Marco gave a big sigh of relief and layed his head on Dylan's shoulder, and Dylan got the impression that he had been holding his breath. "I guess...I just thought that you were getting sick of me because I have some sort of black cloud hovering over my head...I thought you might not want to have to deal with that any more."

Dylan's grasp on him was almost suffocatingly tight. "All that bad stuff that's happened to you, all the horrible, undeserving hurt that you've been through...well that's all the more reason to stay." He chuckled softly a little. "And that's not to mention the mind blowing fact that I love you so, so very much."

Marco snuggled up closer to him. "I love you more. That much I can promise you. I can't imagine me ever being without you. Why do you think I was so afraid of losing you?"

Dylan barked out a laugh. "Y_ou're _afraid of losing _me?_ Sweetie, you're always in so much danger I'm terrified the world's going to swoop you up out of my life for good at any moment." He snorted. "With Tim's help no doubt."

Marco frowned, remembering unhappily at Tim's actions. He was greatly disappointed in the youngest boy for letting him down that way. At this point Dylan peeked down at Marco's silence and found him lost in thought, a grimace on his face.

Dylan stroked Marco's arms in an attempt to comfort the younger boy. "Shh, you're alright baby, I'm here for you." A thought suddenly struck him. "What happened in your dream, Marco?" he asked. The elder boy felt Marco's body suddenly seize up, a horrified look rippled across his features. He quickly began to rub Marco's tense shoulders, trying to work out his anxiety. "Shhhh, shhhh," Dylan whispered instantly.

Marco didn't want to think about his dream what-so-ever. It was hard enough to admit to Dylan that his nightmare even existed in the first place, but to have to relive it for him...

Dylan, sensing his distress, tried to help him get started, so he said in a hushed tone, "You said it was about your father...?"

Marco nodded. "Y-yeah, h-he...I d-don't know how but f-for some reason we were in d-different places and he j-just appeared out of no where," Marco began to choke out, stuttering a little. "He apoloized t-to me and said he made a h-huge mistake...b-beating me up and all th-that." The younger boy didn't notice how Dylan's face hardened slightly. "B-but the weird thing was, was that he was sp-speaking Italian, and he _never_ does that unless he's angry or c-confused. I was so conflicted, Dyl." He looked up helplessly towards his boyfriend. "P-part of me was t-terrifed of him, but the other p-part wanted _so_ badly to b-believe him...my hand was in my p-pocket w-where my phone was so I d-decided to call you j-just in case something b-bad happened...b-but you answered too loudly and h-he heard...and he came at me and t-twisted my arm around...and he asked me if I f-felt lucky."

"Oh, honey," Dylan said quietly, hugging him again. "I hate that you have these nightmares, and I want them to stop as much as you do. Where were you in the dream?"

Marco shook his head dejectedly. "I have no idea. I just know it wasn't anywhere familiar."

Dylan inwardly sighed with relief. At least he wouldn't have to worry about this dream while they were at school or something. All they'd have to do, if they were in unfamiliar places, is stay together. Or just not go there in the first place. "Well at least we know to stay together if we're ever in a different area."

Marco nodded slowly.

"And as long as we do that then you won't ever be in any danger from this nightmare."

A small smile started to creep along Marco's lips. He pecked Dylan and smiled even wider. "You're good at this sort of thing, you know that?"

Dylan winked back. "You mean helping a discouraged Marco smile again?"

Marco grinned and kissed him lightly. "Mhmmm."

Dylan looked into his eyes and brushed Marco's hair back. Just gazing into those warm, brown eyes made Dylan fall head over heels for the Italian boy all over again. "I know I probably say this way too often," Dylan said softly. "But I love you." And he kissed him sweetly.

Marco kissed him back teasingly. "You can't ever say it too much, baby. As long as you mean it," he winked.

Dylan kissed him quickly. "I love you." And kissed him again. "I love you." And again. "I love you." And again. "I love you."

Marco laughed, a bubbly, light-hearted laugh. Dylan hadn't heard this laugh since way before his father had started to become a problem. The older boy began kissing him more desperately and hungrily, wanting all of him. His love poured out into Marco and it left him breathless, surprised by the amount of emotion there was.

"I love that laugh," Dylan whispered in between kisses. "I _missed_ that laugh."

Dylan's fingers started to roam along Marco's back as they alternated between sweet and hard, passionate kisses, Marco murmuring many retured 'I love you' s. When they finally broke apart, they stayed wrapped in each other's embrace.

Something kept nagging at Dylan, however. _How could Marco possibly have seen these...these dreams...and have them actually come true?_ The older boy had never really thought much about the first one; he just wrote it off as a coincidence. A very suspicious coincidence, but a coincidence all the same. But now Marco had a second one, and it seemed to be just as worrisome as the first. And the fact that they were so vivid was strange too. If there was one thing Dylan knew about dreams, it was that when you woke up and tried to remember them, it was like trying to watch something through a foggy window that kept getting denser and denser. Usually, by the time you actually register that you're awake, half of it's gone already.

No, these didn't seem so much as dreams...as predictions. _Oh stop it, Dylan, _the blonde boy said exasperately in his head. _What, you think Marco's psychic or something? Ha, I think _you're_ the one that needs the nap because you're thinking crazy. Psychic...like a spastic fortune teller? With the giant crystal ball and the smoke that always conveniently appears when they're about to 'see into the future'? Nooo way Michalchuk, just get off that train of thought right now before someone sends you to a mental hospital._

But was he _sure?_

That was the problem. Dylan wasn't.

Marco felt him tense up and looked at him curiously, his gaze prodding him to speak.

"Marco..." Dylan said hesitantly. "Did you ever...maybe think that you were...that you might be...you know..." He felt silly saying this. "Psychic or something?"

Marco gave him a strange look. "Is this you trying to be funny?"

"No! No, I'm serious."

The Italian boy rolled his eyes and made to get up.

"Wait! Marco wait. Didn't it ever strick you as strange that all of your dreams had come true?" Dylan asked him. He couldn't believe what he was imposing.

"Well I-"

"And that they were so vivid? That they actually involved real people that you knew instead of strangers?"

"That doesn't-"

"Oh wake up, Marco," Dylan conveyed loudly. "All this isn't just coincidence. Do you honestly think that everyone has dreams where they predict _exactly_ what's going to happen? Down to every last word?" He lowered his voice. "Marco that doesn't just happen to anyone."

"You actually want me to believe I'm _'psychic'?_" Marco asked in a mixture of a scoffing and disbelieving voice. "Dylan, I think you're the one that needs to take a nap or something, 'cause you're sounding crazy right now."

"Well what other explanation is there?" Dylan challenged. "It isn't the most improbable thing in the world. I mean, medians and ghosts...they seem pretty real. Why not psychics? Not all of them have to be like the freaky ones you see on t.v."

"So you really think...that me, Marco del Rossi, the weird, gay, Italian with a homophobic father and the worst luck imaginable...is a...?" He didn't need to say it; they both knew what he was talking about.

"It sounds weird, I know," Dylan admitted. "But it's not all together impossible, del Rossi. Just...just think about it. Why else would you hear everything verbatim and see everything exactly as it'll happen? If you're not a psychic, or something along those lines, then answer me that."

"Because...because...I don't know!" Marco cried out, frustrated. "I can't think of it right on the spot but if we look it up or something...!"

"You're in denial."

"No I'm not!"

"Denying denial..."

"Dylan."

"It's one of the first signs..."

Marco groaned and flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Dylan couldn't help himself; he grinned at the younger boy. "I can't believe my boyfriend's a psychic," he teased, leaning down next to him.

"You're not the only one," Marco muttered.

Dylan chuckled, nuzzling his face into the soft, black hair. "It's strange, I know. But I really think it's a pretty solid possibility."

Marco sighed. "I guess. It's just sort of hard to grasp...I mean, I didn't exactly grow up believing in this kind of stuff."

"To be honest, I wasn't exactly the world's biggest believer either," Dylan confessed. "But I'm not unwilling to try."

Marco sighed again. "You're right. As always. But to think that...I'm...that I can see things that're going to happen in the future..." he simpered. "Not exactly normal."

Dylan grinned and kissed his boyfriend's hair. "Normal's boring."

Marco smirked. "Then I must be a crazy, regularly-scheduled _Cirque du Soleil_ thing happening here."

Dylan laughed, hugging Marco tightly. "Which is one of the reasons why I love you."

Marco smiled slyly and teased, "Well that's a relief, because I was starting to worry..."

Dylan growled slightly and kissed him hard, brushing his fingers gently across Marco's cheekbone. Marco giggled and kissed him back, happy that he had him there with him, not only for love, but for support.

* * *

I love love **love** reviews! But no pressure ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **Hmm...I don't really like this chapter too much, it's mostly just to tie up some loose ends, but read and enjoy anyway :) Oh, and I'm sorry if some of the translations are wrong. I did my best :)

* * *

When Marco got to school the next day he felt gloriously well rested yet nervous at the same time. He didn't want to see Tim today; he didn't _ever_ want to see Tim, and Dylan sensed that. So, as quickly as he could manage, he threw his own books into his locker and walked Marco to his, keeping his eyes peeled for the worm.

Marco rolled his eyes and smiled at his defensive boyfriend. "Really Dylan, I'm fine, you don't need to make yourself late for class by hanging around my locker." He began putting books away.

Dylan's eyes gleamed and he ruffled Marco's hair. "I have to make sure my Marco's okay, or I'm _never_ going to be able to concentrate." He winked. " 'Cause we all know how crucial sewing is to future hockey players."

Marco giggled. "Hey, now you can make your own jerseys."

Dylan grinned. "You know it."

"Hey Marco."

The couple froze at the voice. Slowly, Marco turned around to look at Tim warily. Dylan raised an eyebrow. _Kid sure has guts, _Dylan grudgingly admitted, glaring at him.

But before Marco could answer, Dylan thundered, "What do you think you're doing here?"

Tim didn't even flinch. _How annoying,_ Dylan thought. "I believe I was talking to my friend," Tim answered nonchalantly.

"Oh, is that what I am? Huh. Could've fooled me," Marco replied angrily, grabbing the books he needed for first period and slamming his locker closed.

Marco's anger hurt Tim more then Dylan ever physically could. He looked stricken, but Marco refused to allow himself to feel sorry for him; he was just going to get played again. He needed to end it now.

"Marco," Tim almost whined.

Marco ignored him, and Dylan pushed Tim out of his way and followed Marco to his classroom.

But what the couple didn't know was how strongly Tim felt for Marco. They knew Tim liked Marco a lot, but Tim didn't just _like_ Marco. He actually loved him, and he couldn't possibly let him go. It would be the end of him, Tim was sure of that. He needed to win him back somehow.

_And Dylan had better watch out for himself when I do._Marco ran to his locker at the end of the day bell, acting extremely paranoid as he jerked his head around, looking for Tim. Thankfully, he hadn't seen him yet.

* * *

He shoved his books into his locker, trying to get out of there as quickly as possibe.

Until someone hurriedly blurted out from behind him, "Marco, please let me explain."

Marco jumped from the surprise and whirled around, almost face to face with Tim. Subconsciously shrinking away from the youngest boy into the locker, Marco gave him a harsh look. "No."

He tried to push past Tim, but the youngest boy would allow it. Tim began pleading with him, acting so pathetic it was painful.

Dylan walking towards Marco's hallway briskly, wanting to get to Marco as soon as possible. He stopped short when he saw the agitated look on Marco's face and who was keeping him there in the first place.

Infuriated, Dylan dashed down the hallway, hearing Marco say exasperately, "I think you've done enough."

"But I ha-"

"What do you think you're doing here?" Dylan snarled, placing a hand roughly on his shoulder. "Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?"

"In so many words," Tim narrowed his eyes. He turned his head to look beggingly at Marco. "I just want to be friends."

Marco barked out a laugh. "Ha! That was what we tried last time and you didn't exactly stick to it."

Tim looked sheepishly at him. "I know and I'm sorry. I just couldn't help myself-"

"What makes you think that you won't just cross the line again?" Marco cried in frustration, throwing his arms up in the air.

Tim looked like he was about to answer when Dylan shoved Tim away from them in disgust. "I'm going to say this one more time," the older boy growled threateningly. He was pleased to see Tim flinch away from him. "Stay away from my boyfriend."

He wrapped his arm around Marco's waist and steered him away. Tim burned with envy, and he was glad no one else was in the hallway with them.

Marco still felt uncomfortable. He was inwardly blushing when Dylan told Tim off, but now he was uneasy. _Tim's never going to give up, is he? _Marco bit his lip. To be honest, he didn't really know why both Dylan and Tim were attracted to him; he wasn't anything special. But apparently his boyfriend and not-so-secret admirer saw something he didn't.

"Marco!" Tim tried one more time. He ran forward and yanked the Italian boy from his boyfriend's grasp. Tim then proceeded to sprint to an empty storage closet as Marco gave a yelp of surprise.

"Tim!" Marco cried in protest as Tim shut and locked the door. He looked a little scared in the dim light.

Tim wanted nothing but to kiss him right then and there, but he forced himself to resist. "I'm not going to let you go until you hear me out," the youngest boy said urgently.

Dylan began banging loudly on the door. "Tim!" he roared. "You open this door _right now!_"

Marco glared at Tim and said forcefully, "Let me out."

"_Will you just listen?_" Tim all but yelled, causing Marco to blanch slightly and go silent.

Dylan took Marco's silence as a bad sign. "Tim, I swear to god open this door before I kill you." Both Marco and Tim were actually worried he was serious.

Tim was willing to take his chances, however. He grabbed Marco's wrists in an attempt to get his attention, but the Italian boy squirmed. "Tim, let go," Marco hissed. Dylan heard this, and his rage started to grow, if possible, even stronger.

Tim sighed. "Listen, Marco, I'm sorry for everything. I really just want to be your friend, I couldn't stand it if you hated me," Tim looked at him sincerely. "I would understand it completely, though, what I did was unacceptable and out of line, but I need you to understand how I - _Will you shut up?_" Tim exploded suddenly, looking harshly at the door where Dylan was behind. Dylan had been constantly wriggling the handle, pounding on the door with both his fist and foot, and shouting at Tim to open the door and for Marco to not listen to a word he said. "Can't I just get five seconds alone with the guy?"

"No," Dylan responded furiously. "Marco? Are you okay?"

Marco blushed slightly. Dylan was being _kind of_ over-protective right now. "Dylan, I'm fine, really. You don't need to worry, he's not sawing my arms off or anything."

"Well, that's good to know, but it wasn't exactly what I was worried about," Dylan almost chuckled.

Tim looked hopefully at Marco and mouthed, _Forgive me?_

Marco scrutinized him before he mouthed, not smiling, _Maybe. Eventually. But not right now..._

Tim nodded acceptingly. It was a start at least. _I am sorry though. I really am._

Marco nodded, but didn't say, or mouth, anything else for a few moments. He wasn't ready to forgive him or consider him his friend again just yet. Tim had put him and Dylan through quite some pain.

Outside, Dylan was getting antsy. He couldn't hear them saying anything, and he was going absolutely insane. _For all I know, they could be making out, _Dylan cried in his head, becoming very overly suspicious. He began knocking on the door again, not angry at the moment but just worried.

_We better get out there, _Marco mouthed at Tim.

Tim shook his head violently. _Nuh-uh. No way. He's going to kill me if I step outside._

Marco raised an eyebrow. _Can you really blame him? And anyway, what do you suppose we do? He's going to break down the door any second so it won't matter whether we willingly go or not. Now move!_

Tim looked at him nervously and defeatedly. _Alrightttttt. But you go in front!_

Marco bit back a laugh, and unlocked the closet door. It flung open and all in a flurry Dylan snatched Marco up and out of Tim's reach. "You're okay?"

Marco smiled and tapped him on the nose. "I'm _fine._ It's not like he's a serial killer or anything."

"Hmm...I wouldn't be surprised actually," Dylan glared at the hesitant Tim. His fist itched to knock that jerk to the floor, but he was too thankful to have Marco in his arms once again to do anything just yet.

Tim held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I only wanted to talk to him. In private. And that was the only way I could think of on such short notice without you twisting my words around."

Dylan snorted. "Yeah, right, _I'm _twisting your words around. All you do is lie to him."

Marco glanced sharply at Tim.

Tim thrust his hands in Marco's direction pointedly. "See?" He said, frustrated. "You see what you do? You tweak, and tweak, and tweak until you've made Marco hate me! You just can't stand the fact that even though I love him I still want to be his friend, even though he might not love me back! You can't stand this kind of competition!"

Both Marco and Dylan were stunned. _Did he just say...love?_

Dylan was beyond rage. "You-You're _in love_ with _my_ Marco?" He cracked his knuckles and lunged at Tim.

Marco couldn't take this anymore. He was sick of the fighting, the jealousy(though he used to wonder how anyone could be), the whole Tim/Dylan problem all together. Marco didn't want to be around either of them at the moment.

Marco groaned in exasperation, loudly and with relish and shouted, "Stop it! Just stop it, both of you!"

The two fighting guys paused and looked up at Marco, a little surprised.

"I'm tired of the constant fighting!" Marco was livid. "I don't even get why the two of you are fighting anyway! It's ridiculous! I'm not famous or anything! I'm nothing special! It makes no sense!"

Both Dylan and Tim looked at him unbelievably. This guy was beyond oblivious.

Marco glared at them and turned on his heels.

"Marco!' Dylan and Tim called, upset.

"Just leave me alone, the both of you!" Marco replied dismissively as he shoved the school doors open and started walking quickly away from there.

He had no idea where he was going, but he didn't care. Marco just wanted to be alone, have a few moments of peace and quiet. Away from the nervousness of whether he'd run into Tim that day, or the hard look Dylan would get whenever anyone mentioned the _name_ Tim. It didn't even have to be about him either! It could be any random Tim guy and suddenly Dylan would get into a bad mood. Marco sighed and kicked a rock dejectedly.

Dylan and Tim looked ashamed of themselves as they broke apart. _Marco'll just blow off some steam on his own and return to me by this evening, _Dylan thought, trying to cheer himself up. His heart suddenly stopped. _Oh my god. Marco's nightmare!_ Dylan inwardly gasped. _He was off on his own! By himself! In god knows where!_

Dylan shot up, startling Tim, and ran outside. He had to find him!

Marco absent-mindly popped into a building, as the sun was starting to glare into his eyes. He probably would've turned around on any other day, but he didn't want to run the risk of bumping into either Dylan, Tim, or both. He pushed the two glass doors opened and looked around. _Huh. This looks like some kind of bank,_ Marco thought instantly. And it did, despite the lack of workers or customers. It was odd, but Marco couldn't come up with an explanation as to why. _Maybe it's their day off? _Marco's mind suggested. _Wait, but the doors would be locked, wouldn't they? Hmm..._ This was weird. _Maybe they're all just in the back of the building...or on a late lunch break or something?_

No matter what the reason was, it seemed sort of off-putting. Marco decided to just go to the next more populated building on this street, just in case he was trespassing, or a vampire or some other creepy monster jumped out of the shadows. He went to turn away.

"Marco," a deadly familiar voice entered he younger boy's ears.

Marco froze, fear paralyzing him momentarily. He turned around and saw his father standing a couple yards away from him, shock written all over his face. _Speaking of creepy monsters, _Marco thought, afraid. _How had I not noticed him there? _Mr. del Rossi, however was staring at him, face blank of all emotion. Marco's hand flew to his pocket where his phone was, gripping it tightly.

"_Non c'è bisogno di panico, Marco __**(There's no need to panic, Marco)**__,_" Mr. del Rossi smiled at him, opening his arms as if to give him a hug as he walked cautiously towards him."_Ho cercato per voi fin dalla ... da quel giorno. Volevo chiedere scusa, Marco. I... ho reagito in maniera eccessiva. Non avrei mai dovuto ... hai picchiato così __**(I've been looking for you ever since...since that day. I wanted to apologize, Marco. I...I over-reacted. I should never have...have beaten you up like that)**__._" Mr. del Rossi was now standing right in front of Marco.

_My dream! Oh my god, my dream!_ Marco almost went into cardiac arrest right then and there. He shook his head vehemently.

"_Per favore, Marco, mi dispiace tanto __**(Please, Marco, I am so sorry)**__._" Marco instantly dialed Dylan's number, praying with all his heart that Dylan would just answer quietly.

He was wrong.

"Hello?" Marco heard Dylan answer loudly from his phone. "Marco?"

Mr. del Rossi's eyes glinted murderously at him as he heard Dylan's voice."_Come, non ti fidi di me __**(What, you don't trust me)**__?_" he roared, leaping forward and twisting Marco's arm painfully behind his back in one swift motion, causing him to drop his phone. It stayed on, however, as Marco cried out in pain, his arm throbbing.

"Marco!" Dylan shouted. _Oh god. I'm too late._

"_Ti senti fortunato, faggot __**(You feel lucky, faggot)**__?_" Mr. del Rossi hissed, pushing Marco's arm up higher. "_Davvero __**(Do you)**__?_"

Marco didn't answer, for fear of saying the wrong thing. He was dealing with a _very_ volatile man right now.

"Marco where are you?" Dylan screamed. Mr. del Rossi lifted his foot and brought it down hard on Marco's phone, crushing it.

"You know, there _was_ an off switch," Marco muttered under his breath. Unfortunately for him, his father heard it.

"_Che cosa hai detto__**(What did you say)**__?_" Mr. del Rossi hissed.

Marco took a deep breath. "I said there was an off switch. You didn't need to crush it."

Mr. del Rossi almost smiled. He was still gripping Marco's arm very hard, but he lowered it so it wasn't in danger of breaking.

"Why are you even here in the first place? The police are looking for you. You know, because you almost killed me," Marco said dryly.

Mr. del Rossi gave Marco a harsh look. "_Non sapevo che saresti qui, Marco. Ma ho cercato di trovare te, per vedere se tu eri ancora una vergogna per la nostra famiglia__**(I didn't know you'd be here, Marco. But I have been trying to find you, to see whether you were still a disgrace to our family)**__._" Mr. del Rossi started to drag Marco away from the clear doors and into a darker area. "_E a quanto pare, lo sei__**(And apparently you are)**__._"

Marco tried to fight against Mr. del Rossi's hold on him. His father had his arm in a very vulnerable position, however, and he'd rather not break it. Marco could feel Mr. del Rossi's grip bruising his wrists and forearms. "What makes you think I haven't changed?" Marco challenged angrily. On the inside he was desperate and frightened to the point of almost passing out, but he couldn't let his father know that.

That made Mr. del Rossi pause for a second. "_E la tua __**(What about your)**__...?_" He spat out, looking pointedly at Marco's broken phone.

"Just because we're friends doesn't mean I _like_ him or anything," Marco shrugged. "I'm straight now. I've thought about it and I just decided to stop being gay." _This is absolutely ridiculous_, Marco inwardly rolled his eyes. _Anyone with a brain cell wouldn't believe that._

Funnily enough, Mr. del Rossi lit up. "Really, Marco? You have stopped being...just like that?" He grinned and let go of Marco swiftly. The Italian boy rubbed his sore shoulder and backed away slightly from Mr. del Rossi, amused and surprised that he actually fell for it. The old Italian man held his arms open for a real hug.

Marco shook his head and glared at his father. "No, not really asshole." And he took off running.

Tears started running down his face; he felt like his heart was being stomped on all over again. He _almost_ could've had his father back. Marco could hear Mr. del Rossi give a shout of fury and hear his feet stomping behind him, but Marco knew he could out run him. _I need to find Dylan,_ Marco thought urgently.

He jogged past the school before he stole a glance behind him. Mr. del Rossi wasn't _too_ too far away, but he still was a while behind. Now he just had to remember how to get to Dylan's house! He inwardly cursed himself for not paying more attention to the route Dylan took to get home, but then again, how was he supposed to know something like _this_ would happen? And so soon?

Marco ended up going with his gut feeling and taking turns whenever he thought it might be right. It wasn't the most accurate way; he ended up having to double back _several_ times and a couple times he had to stop behind a tree to catch his breath. He tripped occassionally and got covered in dirt and scratches, which frustrated him to no end. Luckily, all this zig-zagging meant that Mr. del Rossi had lost him.

Eventually, Marco found a street he recognized and started down that one tiredly and with faint hope. He had long ago slowed down to a walk, breathless and wanting to save his energy in case he somehow ran into his father again.

Thankfully for him, he (finally!) walked up the steps to Dylan's house, feeling gritty and exhausted. As he hopped up, he could hear Dylan's anxious voice and loud, constant footsteps. "Where could he be? What if he's seriously hurt and...and he was mad at me..."

Marco opened the door, his wrists throbbing, blood covering his knees and elbows, and dirt caked all over his body.

Dylan had been pacing the room frantically and a distressed looking Paige was sitting in a kitchen chair. The older boy whirled around at the sound of the door opening and almost cried in relief. He sprinted towards Marco, lifted him up, and hugged him. Marco wrapped his legs around Dylan's middle and hugged his head back. He set the Italian boy down, and kissed him hard. Dylan then placed his hands on either side of Marco's face, and looked deep into his eyes. "I'm so sorry about everything. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He noticed the bruises on Marco's wrists that ran a third of the way up Marco's forearm, and the bleeding knees and elbows.

"I'm fine," Marco said shakily. He gave Dylan a half-hearted amused smile as he pointed to his knees and elbows. "These I kinda did myself...I've discovered I'm about as coordinated as a headless chicken."

Dylan gave a breathless laugh and hugged him again. "I'm sorry, I was so stupid for letting you go off by yourself."

Marco shook his head. "No, I was the idiot. I didn't even _think_ about what I was doing...I just felt so over-whelmed...I was wrong for yelling at you Dyl, I'm sorry."

Dylan's eyes smiled down at him.

Paige had remained respectively silent as Dylan rejoiced at having Marco home and safe, but Paige was burning to ask one question. "How'd you get away hon? The guy's a raving lunatic!"

"Ah, well, um..." Marco blushed slightly. He didn't really want to admit to them that he'd lied temporairily that he was straight. But he knew he had to, so he began, "Well I sorta ducked into this bank because the sun was glaring in my eyes and I didn't want to turn around just yet. So I hopped in and looked around, but the weird thing was that it was completely empty. Not a soul in sight." He nodded at Dylan and Paige's baffled expressions, as if to say, _I know right?_ "At first I thought maybe it was closed, but then wouldn't they have locked the doors? I thought I should probably leave because I might be trespassing or something, so I went to leave and...well he, um, surprised me and I, uh, got away," Marco finished lamely, trying to avoid details.

Dylan raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean he surprised you, and exactly how'd you get away?" He said in a no-nonsense voice.

Marco fidgeted slightly before he tried it again. "Well he started with apologizing, right? But I knew where it was heading because I dreamt it. So I dialed you number, Dylan, but you answered too loudly and he heard. He twisted my arm around (Dylan noticed how Marco tenderly handled his wrists) and said in so many words that I was a disgrace, and how he wanted me to be straight." Dylan's eyes got that angry glint in them at Marco's words. "He started to drag me into a dark corner or something, where if anyone happened to walk by they wouldn't see anything. So the only thing that came to mind to stop him from beating me up or anything was to convince him I was straight, for the time being anyway." He looked ashamedly down at his feet, but continued anyway. "He bought it and was all excited and asked if I was serious. I couldn't help it; I basically told him hell no and took off running. He's probably still out there looking for me, the stalker."

Dylan wasn't angry at Marco or anything for lying about being straight; _anyone_ in his position would've done the exact same thing. Most wouldn't have had the nerve to tell them flat out, right then and there, that he was lying afterwards. Dylan walked over and behind him, rubbing his tense shoulders, feeling bothered. "He was stalking you?"

Marco bit his lip. "Well, kind of. He said he hadn't meant to find me there, it was just one of those in-the-wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time things. But he said he had been trying to find me ever since the police had started looking for him. Probably to get me to take the charges off him," Marco sniffed. "Anyway, he said he saw me pop in there and followed me somehow without me noticing at all." Marco smirked. "How oblivious am I?"

Paige looked at him sympathetically and gave him a huge hug. "I'm just happy you're not seriously hurt like last time. I don't think I could handle almost losing my you _again_." Afterwards, Paige gave Marco a slight push into Dylan's arms. Dylan grinned and put his arms around Marco, who chuckled a little and blushed, returning the hug.

Out of the blue, Marco's mind flashed from his father to Tim, and he inwardly cringed away from it. He buried his head in Dylan's chest and suddenly groaned. "I _don't_ want to go to school tomorrow."

Dylan looked down at Marco's hidden face worriedly. What w_as_ he going to do about Tim? Beating him up sure didn't stop the determined little sucker. How in the world was he supposed to protect Marco from this guy? The bad thing was, Dylan wasn't sure whether Marco still wanted to be Tim's friend or not.

The funny thing was, though, that Marco was _this_ close to forgiving him, but since he blurted out that he loved Marco, the Italian boy felt nothing towards him. The brown eyes boy just couldn't deal with this chapter of the Tim epidemic. He didn't hate him, he didn't feel sorry for him, he was just...done. Marco wanted to take the Tim burden off his shoulders for good and never have to deal with him again. Everything was perfect(if you scratch out the whole homophobic father aspect) until Tim had to come along and ruin it for them. Marco and Dylan were happy together, and he didn't want stupid Tim to try to worm his way back into his life. Every time he did, he messed up worse than the first time. The middle aged boy had been forgiving and lenient where he was concerned, but now Marco couldn't deal with it anymore. It was draining him; he was rubbed dry, scoured to the _core_ from this worrying about what Tim would do next, what he would try to pull to bump Dylan out of his way. Unfortunately for him, Dylan was practically immovable.

"I know," Dylan kissed Marco's hair, still hugging him. He was concerned, that much was evident. About both Tim and Marco's father. Dylan glanced down at Marco's scrapes and suggested, "Why don't we get you cleaned up?"

Marco nodded and they walked over to the kitchen sink. Paige kissed Marco's cheek goodnight and bounded up the stairs. Dylan sat Marco on the counter and wet a paper towel. He then wet it and proceeded to tenderly dab at Marco's knees and elbows. The younger boy recoiled slightly from it, but he knew he had to get all the dirt out.

Dylan then reached into the cubboard and got out a small spray bottle. Marco's eyes went wide and he shook his head vigorously. "Uh-uh, is that the spray-ee stingy thing? No, we are _not_ using that! It _hurts!_"

Dylan grinned, highly amused. "Spray-ee stingy thing?"

Marco glowered at him. "You know what I mean."

Dylan chortled, shaking the bottle. "Don't worry little baby, it's not that 'stingy thing.' "

Marco eyed him warily but allowed him to spray his cuts. Until he yelped in pain and jerked away. "Dylan!" Marco cried, furious. "You said it wasn't!"

"Well how else was I supposed to get you to take it?" Dylan asked, his eyes gleaming wickedly.

Marco crossed his arms and pouted, looking irritated.

Dylan chuckled again and went to hug him. "You get cuter by the day, I swear."

"Nuh-uh. You are not forgiven," Marco retorted, annoyed and stubbornly refusing to looking at him.

Dylan smiled widely, pinned Marco against the counter, and started kissing Marco's neck. "Am I forgiven now?" He murmured, his lips still pressed to the Italian boy's neck.

"Nope," Marco answered obstinately, still peeved but becoming progressively less so.

Dylan then began kissing Marco's lips, who were at first unyielding, but now starting to move with Dylan's. "And now?"

"I'll let you know," Marco replied.

Dylan laughed and continued to kiss him with more passion. "Oh, I'm glad you're safe," Dylan whispered.

Marco gave a small smile. "Well that makes two of us."

Dylan smiled and ran his fingers through the younger boy's soft, black hair as Marco looked into those blue eyes. They knew they were perfect for each other, and for some reason the term 'boyfriend' or the word 'love' didn't seem strong enough.

* * *

Marco walked swiftly to his locker, not making eye contact with anyone in particular. He got as far as actually closing the door and turning to leave when he heard a small voice say, "Marco?"

"What Tim?" Marco asked, refraining from rolling his eyes in annoyance with difficulty.

"I just want to say I'm sorry about yesterday and I really just want us to be fr-"

"Oh just stop. Just stop right now," Marco said harshly. He hated how he sounded, but it needed to be said, and he wasn't exactly unwilling to do so. "We both know that's not what you want Tim, so stop with the 'I just want us to be friends' thing. I'm sick and tired of you always trying to mess me and Dylan up. It's frustrating, because I'll think you're actually serious this time, and then you do something and I'm left to think whether all this is worth it." Marco glared at him. "And it's not. I'm done trying to be your 'friend.' If I could change things I would, but the fact of the matter is you won't and I'm not going to take it anymore. I'm done."

Marco pushed past a gaping Tim. He half expected Tim to run after him like he usually did, but he didn't, and despite the stomach-twisting guilt he felt, he knew it needed to be done. They were just hurting themselves.

Tim had never felt so low in his entire life. He couldn't even try to be friends with Marco. But the youngest boy knew Marco was right; he wasn't going to change. And even though there was obvious hardness in Marco's voice, he did detect some guilt and sympathy buried somewhere deep in there, and he clung to that like a pathetic fish. He couldn't just move on like _that_. Maybe in time he would, but he highly doubted it. For now it seemed that Tim would once again have to admire Marco from a distance, and watch Dylan push the Italian boy farther and farther away from him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Title(you know, in case you guys all forgot :P): **Holding On

**Author: **ME! :)

**Author's Note: **I know it may seem soon to post another chapter this long, but I had like a crazy burst of inspiration and since I'm stuck at home all day, this really helps to pass the time :D haha so read, review, and enjoy! :) I'm a little stuck on the next part(I know what will happen, I just...don't know how to phrase it right :P) so I'm sorry if it may take a little while to get it up, I'll try my bestest to write it ASAP ;)

**Disclaimer: **Even though Marco and Dylan are long gone in the actual episodes, I still love themm3 Anyway, I don't own anything from Degrassi, but if I did... ) Oh, and I know I used a line in here somewhere...from an actual episode...just for legal issues, I don't own it either ;) haha

**Rebecca: **THANK YOU SOO MUCH FOR REVIEWING! I didn't want to say it, but I was starting to think people forgot about me :D haha so this chapter is dedicated to you333

* * *

Months went by without a single problem or word from either Tim or Mr. del Rossi, and Marco and Dylan couldn't be happier. They were finally back to their bubbly, giggly, lovey-dovey selves.

But despite their perfect content, Dylan couldn't help but feel more and more anxious about when the next catastrophe would be. What would hurt his boyfriend next? _Who_ would hurt him? Marco seemed to be oblivious to this thought, and Dylan didn't exactly want to ruin his blissful ignorance.

The warmer it got, however, the shorter the time was until Dylan would have to leave for University, and neither of them was at all willing to think about it. Especially when Dylan was insanely worried something horrible would happen or Tim would try to get with Marco yet again. Or Marco would 'dream' of something else. However, since Dylan was just going to be a half hour away, they didn't think their distanced relationship would be that difficult to maintain, which was a _huge_ weight off both their shoulders.

Marco and Dylan were eating ice cream in the park, sitting on a bench with their rollerblades beside them. They had chased the ice cream truck for twenty-five minutes, skating crazily in one direction, giggling the entire time, before stopping and carefully listening for the truck's music. When they finally caught up to it, Marco crashed into the back of the truck; he didn't know how to stop. He was hardly better at rollarblading then ice skating, though at least with rollarblading he had a stable surface to go on.

The ice cream truck driver looked at them, shock written all over his face as he said, "Wow. You guys must really want ice cream, huh?"

They laughed and nodded enthusiastically, getting two large cones. Dylan and Marco then leisurely skated to the park, licking their cones and cracking jokes. Now that they were finishing their ice cream, Marco looked at Dylan and inwardly grinned maliciously. Dylan had ice cream all over his hands, and just as he was about to clean them with a napkin, Marco said innocently, "You got a little something on your cheek."

"Oh, thanks," Dylan said as he wiped at it, before his eyes went wide and Marco burst out laughing. His once perfectly clear cheek now had chocolate ice cream smudged all over it. He lightning fast cleaned his face and hands before he mock glared at Marco, grinned, and lunged at him playfully. Marco squealed and shot up, running. Giggling, Dylan chased Marco all over the place until he caught up to him and grabbed him from behind around the middle. Arms around his stomach, he lifted Marco into the air, the Italian boy's legs bent slightly and flying out, and twirled him around, chortling.

Marco smiled widely as Dylan put him down and kissed him sweetly and briefly on the lips. Dylan took his hand and they started walking, picking their blades up on the way, blissfully happy. They didn't even need to say anything; they were perfectly happy walking in silence. Until Dylan glanced at his watch. "Ah! We gotta go, my hockey game starts in an hour!" Dylan shouted in surprise. Despite the weather changing, Dylan's hockey season was still going strong.

Marco and Dylan quickly shoved their skates on and raced back to the house. As Marco ran inside to get Paige, Dylan heaved his hockey bag and stick out of the garage and into his car.

He started the car as the two fans hopped in. Dylan got to the arena in record time and both Paige and Marco tossed a 'good luck' at Dylan's back as he hurriedly went to the changing room.

Marco and Paige sat themselves on the bleachers in the stands, and waited for Dylan to come on the ice.

"Hey, do you want anything? I'm going to get a pop," Marco asked Paige.

She smiled, "Sure! Thanks hon."

As Marco left, she suddenly heard two fans behind her start squealing. "Oh I can't wait for number eight to come out!" Paige smirked. That was Dylan.

"Do you think he'd go out with me?" Another girl sighed.

"I don't know, but that guy in front of us wasn't too bad either," another girl giggled. "The one with the dark hair?" Paige bit back a laugh. They were talking about Marco, as he was the only guy in front of them. _Too bad they're both unattainable,_ Paige chortled.

"Do you think he's going out with the blonde next to him?" The teen asked again.

"How should I know? She did call him 'hon,' but just ask him when he gets back. Now, that number eight guy...what's his name?"

Marco came up the stairs, sipping his drink as one of the female fans told her Dylan's name exasperately. "There ya go Paigey," Marco smiled, giving Paige her drink.

Paige's eyes glinted wickedly as she noticed how silent the girls behind them had gone. "Thanks hon."

Suddenly Dylan's team came out and Marco and Paige stood up and cheered loudly. The girls behind them squealed, "Look! There's Michalchuk! Oh my god, he's so hot."

Paige glanced at Marco and they both snickered. Dylan skated around the rink twice before he looked up at the stands and waved. Two of the girls in the back shrieked, jumped up and started waving at him frantically. Luckily, Paige and Marco knew it was meant for them and waved back. Grinning, Dylan went to go warm up with his team, though he couldn't help but sneak glances up at Marco.

Marco watched his hockey star skate powerfully throughout the game, though he couldn't shake off the feeling that one of the girls behind him was staring at him. Every time he'd glance behind him a blonde eyes would hurriedly shift upwards to the game and a blush would appear on her cheeks. There had been constant whispers behind them, and Marco raised an eyebrow at Paige. She winked and sipped her pop.

Dylan had scored a 'hat trick' of the team's five goals, and Marco and Paige were going wild. They ran down and Paige noticed that the three girls behind them were following closely behind. Paige and Marco waited outside Dylan's dressing room, accompanied by the three girls. A particularly slutty blonde bounced up to Marco and leaned in close. "Hi, I'm Allie," she purred in his ear.

Marco gave her a surprised and slightly curious glance. "Uh, hey, I'm Marco."

She fluttered her eyelashes and Paige coughed quite conspicuously. Allie ignored this and whispered to Marco, "Well Marco, I was hoping we could go out sometime," and she brandished a prepared slip with her name and phone number on it and running her fingers up and down Marco's arm. "Call me."

Marco gave her a funny look. "Um, no offense but I'm already going out with someone."

Her face visibly fell and hardened. "Is it her?" she asked rudely, pointing at Paige.

Marco and Paige grinned at each other. "Nah, it's not her," Marco chuckled.

"Then who?"

Suddenly Dyan came out of the dressing room, his hair wet form the quick shower he took. Two of the girls squealed as he came out, shouting if he'd go out with them, but Dylan looked at the blonde and back to Marco, the girl obviously hitting on his boyfriend. The couple shared an amused look before Dylan swooped down and kissed Marco pointedly.

The three girls' jaws dropped open and Paige roared with laughter. "If I were you, I'd probably leave," she said in a fake-sweet voice.

With an embarrassed huff, they all but ran out of their sight. Marco giggled when Dylan pulled apart. The Italian boy threw his arm around Dylan's neck and said, "You were amazing!"

Dylan grinned and blushed, hugging him back.

Paige was still laughing. "I know it's mean, but that was hilarious!"

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Nice, Paige."

"Come on, you know it was," Paige insisted as they walked back out. Dylan draped an arm around Marco's shoulders as he unlocked the car door.

Marco smiled and poked Dylan's chest. "Poor girls don't know what they're missing."

Dylan beamed and kissed his cheek, climbing into the driver's seat. The entire way home wasn't very eventful, but Dylan was thinking hard about something. In a couple weeks, it would be Dylan's Prom, and he really wanted Marco to be there with him.

However there were two problems about this; one, Marco might not want to go because he'd feel uncomfortable. And two, he didn't know how'd he go about asking him in the first place. The older boy wanted to make it special and memorable, only he didn't know how.

Dylan was nervous; he didn't know how long it would take to plan everything, he didn't even know what he was going to do in the first place, and time was running out.

Marco glanced up at Dylan's face and saw him biting his lip, eyebrows knitted together. He cocked his head to the side and shared a confused glance with Paige, who shrugged.

Paige didn't know what was bugging her brother, but she knew how she could find out. Giving Marco a sly wink, she looked at Dylan and asked innocently, "Hey Dyl, could you drop Marco off for a second? I need to check to see whether Hazel has my textbook and I'm sure Marco wants to get started cramming for his exams."

Dylan jumped slightly, shaking out of his reverie. He looked at Paige in the rearview mirror and said, "Sure Paige," as Marco groaned, remembering the amount of studying he had to do. Dylan grinned at him.

"Thanks Paige, now I can't _wait_ to get home," Marco replied grumpily.

Dylan chuckled and patted his knee. "We'll be right back to share in the fun, don't worry."

He pulled up to the driveway, and Marco went to get out. Dylan, however, grabbed Marco's arm, yanked him back, and kissed him hard but briefly. Marco smiled widely and got out of the car.

Dylan pulled out of the driveway and started down the street. "So where does Hazel live?"

"Oh, we're not going to Hazel's," Paige replied easily.

Dylan looked confused and a little angry back at Paige. "Then what am I doing driving you around then?"

"Dyl, honestly, what's bugging you?"

Dylan sighed, and started blushing. "Well...um I wanna take Marco to the Prom...but I don't know how to ask him." His cheeks were bright red and he was avoiding Paige's eyes.

Paige grinned at him. "Is that all? Well, I can help you there, dear brother of mine."

Dylan raised an eyebrow at her in the mirror. "Oh really? Then what should I do?"

Paige shifted in her seat excitedly. "Okay, well, first of all, how do you want to do it? Do you want it to be in public, alone, romantic, funny, et cetera, et cetera?"

Dylan thought about this. He didn't want to make Marco uncomfortable if he really didn't want to go to the Prom...but he didn't want to make it seem like he didn't care about it himself. So he guessed doing it in public was out...but then again what if it made it more awkward being alone? _Damn, this is hard,_ Dylan thought exasperately.

Paige rolled her eyes at Dylan's struggle. "I really wish Marco could see how crazy he makes you sometimes."

Dylan mock glared at her as she gave him an amused look. "Well...I guess I want it to be...cute and romantic at the same time...I don't want to make him uncomfortable, though, if he doesn't want to go..."

"Dylan, honestly, why wouldn't he want to go? He'd do anything as long as you're there, he _loooooves_ you."

Dylan's face flushed as a stupid grin broke his face.

Paige continued, chuckling at his expression, "Anyway, about you asking him...I have a few ideas. You could write _'Will you go to the Prom with me?'_ and put it in a fortune cookie and take him to that new Chinese restaurant down the street. Or set him on a scavenger hunt of all of your favourite places with directions on how to get to the next one. And then when they reach the last place, you're either hiding or standing there or something with a sign that asks him to the Prom. Or you could get five of your friends to write the letters 'Prom?' on five t-shirts with you standing at the end with flowers or a sign. Or-"

"Whoa, slow down Paige," Dylan laughed. "I barely know what you're saying. Did you like look them up and memorize them?"

Paige looked at him seriously. "You need to be prepared for anything, Dyl."

Dylan forced himself to not roll his eyes at her. "Okay, Paige. Um...I don' know..."

Paige smiled widely. "It's alright, we'll look some more up. But where will you take him for dinner? How long will you stay? What-?"

"Hold on a second Paigey," Dylan said slowly. "I don't to plan this all at once. I want it to be perfect, not rushed and crammed all in a five minute session."

Paige nodded wisely. "That's a good idea. Why don't we talk about this tomorrow? We'll come up with another excuse."

Dylan smiled. "Deal."

* * *

"We must've done something awful, in our past lives to deserve this hell," Marco groaned unhappily, burying his face in his textbook.

Dylan rubbed Marco's back. "It only gets harder, sweetheart." It had been a week since Paige and Dylan had had their how-he-can-ask-Marco-to-the-Prom discussion, and things were still very undecided.

Marco moaned, "Fantastic."

"Past lives?" Craig asked, amused.

Marco peeked up at him. "You know, when we were younger. Or centuries ago when we were some other poor loser or form of cattle." Everyone chuckled. "If you believe in that kind of stuff, anyway," he added.

"Frankly I'm surprised you guys roped me into this in the first place." Alex mused. She paused before saying, "Or that I've even stuck with it for this long."

"Trust me, hon, no one is more surprised than me," Paige replied.

Ellie rested her head on Marco's shoulder when he sat back against The Dot's couch. They were having a huge study/homework session in a quiet corner in the back, and everyone had a pounding headache. "I'm so tired, I think I actually might've answered the questions with White Stripes lyrics," Ellie stated, holding up her science exam practice packet.

Marco laughed and gave her a one-armed hug. "Poor baby," he teased.

"I don't know about you guys, but I am _done_ for tonight," Paige stated forcefully.

"Agreed," Hazel chimed in. Jimmy was already dozing off in his wheelchair. Alex took a pillow and chucked it at his head.

"Gah!" he cried, jolting awake. He threw the pillow back at the obvious-looking Alex, who smirked and caught it.

Marco gently pulled out of Ellie's grasp, stood up and stretched. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Whoopie," Paige grouched sarcastically.

"Hey, Ryan's going to join us tomorrow by the way," Dylan told them. "He _really_ needs to get a good grade on his exams."

"Don't we have too many people in this study group as it is?" Spinner asked.

"He can come," Marco yawned. "Though if anyone else does I think we can officially take over the entire restaurant."

"Hmm, interesting thought del Rossi," Alex mused.

Marco rolled his eyes and smiled at his boyfriend. "Ready to go?"

"I've been ready for the past hour and a half," Dylan grinned. They said their goodbyes and the two Michalchuks and Marco got into Dylan's car.

Marco climbed into the front seat and closed his eyes. "I. Am. So. Tired. My brain is mush."

"I'm surprised I'm still able to speak English," Paige groaned.

"Aw, come on babies, you guys are only in tenth grade. I'm studying for _twelfth_ grade exams," Dylan pointed out seriously.

Marco and Paige exchanged glances. "Okay hon, you win," Paige told him. "But that doesn't mean we have it easy. Grade ten's hard too."

Dylan eyes smiled at them and he nodded. When they pulled up to the house, Marco and Dylan cuddled up on the couch, yawning and watching television. Dylan leaned down and kissed him sweetly.

"Mmm," Marco sighed happily.

"Hey Dylan," Paige suddenly butt in. "Can I see you upstairs for a second?"

Dylan felt a flicker of irritation towards his sister and ignored her, kissing Marco more intensely.

Paige murmured something exasperately under her breath and flicked Dylan at the back of the head.

"Ow!" Dylan cried, pulling back. His hand flew to the inflicted area and looked at Paige reproachfully. It wasn't so much the pain then the surprise that made the older Michalchuk cry out.

"Come on, let's go," Paige waved her hands in a 'shooing' way as she lead her brother upstairs.

Marco smiled at Dylan as he hopped up the steps unwillingly. Stretching, the younger boy couldn't help but feel his eyelids droop closed and he layed his head on the couch's pillow.

"Do we _really_ need to do this now, Paige," Dylan complained.

"Yes," Paige replied giving him a hard look. "Because incase you haven't noticed, your Prom is in two weeks and you don't have a suit or anything, and you haven't even _asked_ Marco yet! You're running out of time, Dylan."

Dylan ran a hand through his hair, feeling hassled. "I know! I know, but I just...I want to do it right, but...I just wish I could get it over with and ask him straight out."

"Dylan, I thought we already decided! You're going to-"

"Shh! Paige!" Dylan hissed, covering his sister's mouth with his hand and glancing at the door. "Don't say it! He might hear!"

Paige rolled her eyes. "Okay Mr. Paranoid, I won't spoil the surprise. All I'm saying, is you better get the guts to ask him soon, or it'll be too late."

Dylan sighed. "I know Paige, I know."

* * *

"Okay Dylan, what's up?" Marco demanded suddenly during one of their homework sessions a few days later, slamming his book down in annoyance. He had spent the past five minutes staring at the unaware older boy and tapping his pencil aggravatingly. It was just the two of them this time as everyone else had already planned prior committments.

"Huh?" Dylan asked, looking taken aback.

"You've been acting so strange these past couple of days."

Dylan inwardly rolled his eyes angrily at himself. _Why is it that the one person I'm trying to surprise is the one person who can see right through me?_ But he fixed a confused expression on his face and said, "Strange?"

"Yeah, like you're hiding a big secret and it's driving me insane!" Marco exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air and looking beyond agitated.

Dylan grinned at his boyfriend. He was so cute whenever he got frustrated.

"Big secret?" Dylan asked in a politely interested voice.

Marco glared at him. "You are _so_ doing this to me on purpose."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dylan teased.

Marco groaned, loudly and with emphasis as he leaned back in his chair. He looked at Dylan accusingly and stated, "You know, you're going to be the reason why I'll be in the mental hospital years from now."

Dylan chuckled. "Years? Dang, I'm not trying hard enough. You should be there already."

Despite himself, Marco smiled and rolled his eyes. "If you keep this up I probably will be."

Dylan gave him an amused look, before leaning over the table and pressing his lips to Marco's forehead. "You're crazy, you know that?"

Marco smirked. "So I've heard."

Dylan nuzzled his face into Marco's hair. "Hey...you're not doing anything tomorrow are you?"

Marco looked at him curiously and said, "Not that I know of...why?"

"Oh, just wondering," Dylan remarked, giving him a playful wink.

Marco, thinking he was messing with him, smacked Dylan's arm lightly in mock reproach. "You think you're so funny, don't you Michalchuk?"

"Maybeeee..."

Marco shook his head and kissed him lightly, chortling a little. "I guess I'll find out tomorrow."

Dylan's heart sped up at the thought of what he was going to do. As confident and sure as he appeared, when it came to Marco he was about as fearless as a lost puppy. But he faked it nonetheless and said cheerfully, "I guess you will."

* * *

"And you have no idea what he's planning on doing?" Ellie asked as they walked down the hallway to Marco's locker. It was the end of the day and Marco had been waiting anxiously to see what Dylan was up to.

"None," Marco replied.

"No anniversary? Birthday? Holiday?"

"What holiday is in June, Ellie?" Marco asked exasperately.

"Father's Day?" Ellie stated without thinking. She clamped her mouth shut his her hand, eyes apologetic. "Sorry, forget I said that."

Marco gave her a _don't-worry-about-it_ look before saying, "No, there's no birthdays and our anniversary's in the fall."

Ellie shrugged. "Then I have absolutely no idea."

Marco rolled his eyes. "Thanks El, that helps a lot."

"Anytime."

When they reached Marco's locker they were both equally as surprised to see a note taped to the door. Puzzled, Marco pulled it off and automatically recognized Dylan's handwriting.

_Marco -_

_I know you've __**b**__een going mental trying to figure out what I was up to th__**e**__se past couple days, and I have to admit you're cute when you're frustrated. So, of course, that means I'm going to milk this for __**a**__s long as I can ;) Anyway, long story short, I've been planning this for a little while and I _hope_ you haven't figured it out already be__**c**__ase that would just ruin t__**h**__e surprise. I love you mon chéri. Good luck._

Marco smiled goofily at the note, Ellie quickly scanning it over his shoulder. He turned it over, expecting some sort of clue and was surprised to see that there was nothing else. "What?" Marco spluttered. "How...what?"

Ellie looked just as confused. "Maybe the clue's...hidden in the note?"

"Dylan's an evil mastermind," Marco grumbled as he looked more closely at the note. It was then that Marco realized that some of the letters were darker then the rest. "Hey El...look." He pointed at the letters and mentally started putting them together. "Beach? I'm supposed to go to the beach?"

"Huh. Looks like." Ellie smiled at him.

"How exactly am I going to get there, though? I can't drive."

"Ummm...oh, hey, what about Ryan? He has a car doesn't he?"

"That I do, Nash," Ryan smirked as he appeared seemingly out of no where and leaned against the lockers beside the pair. "And I am supposed to be your personal escort today." He gave Marco a small wink.

Marco grinned. "Alright, Ryan, what's going on?"

Ryan fixed an obviously fake-innocent expression and said, "What do you mean? I don't know anything."

Marco rolled his eyes. "Okay, let's just go with that."

Ryan beamed and poked Marco in the side. "Let's get moving del Rossi, I don't have all day."

"Fine, fine." The two of them said their good byes to Ellie and headed over to Ryan's car. Ryan was barely able to keep up as Marco, in his eagernes to discover what the big surprise was, all but slammed into the car, jerking on the door handle repeatedly as Ryan pressed the 'unlock' button. It wouldn't open and Marco looked beyond confused and a little annoyed as he pulled at it harder.

"Dude, just...stop jiggling it and it'll unlock!" Ryan said almost exasperately, chuckling at him as he came up beside the car.

Marco, smiling sheepishly, did as he was told, and waited a few seconds before finally opening it and hopping inside.

"Okay, where to?" Ryan asked, knowing perfectly well what Dylan had put in the note.

Marco raised an eyebrow slightly in suspicion before saying, "Uh, the beach."

Marco never specified what beach he was talking about, yet Ryan pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the same route to the beach where Dylan and Marco first met. Shaking his head at the older of the two boys, Marco proceeded to look out the window expectingly.

When they reached the entrance there was another note in Dylan's handwriting taped to a sign. Groaning, Marco jumped out of the car before Ryan had even come to a full stop and ripped the note off.

_Marco-_

_Congrats sweetheart!_

_And, assuming that Ryan (for once) kept his big mouth shut and hasn't told you anything, good luck with this next one!_

_You're clue's on the back of my favourite vehicle. In fact, I think part of you is on there too ;)_

Marco chortled when he read this; he knew exactly what he was talking about. Ryan had been reading it over Marco's shoulder, and looked completely baffled. Sure, he'd known what the first clue said, but Dylan hadn't trusted him enough not to blurt out the other ones. "His favourite vehicle?"

Marco looked at him amusedly and said, "Well, his favourite desert is ice cream right? So when we were roller blading he heard the ice cream truck music-thing and we chased it all over the place to find it, and when he finally caught up with it-" he chuckled. "I ran right into the back of the truck."

Ryan burst out laughing. "Why?"

"I didn't know how to stop!' Marco grinned as they walked back towards Ryan's car.

Ryan shook his head and ruffled Marco's hair. "You are the most uncoordinated person I have ever met."

Marco rolled his eyes jokingly. "Tell me something I don't know."

Ryan suddenly paused as a peculiar thought struck him.

"Uh...how exactly are we supposed to find it?"

* * *

"Just...it has to be around here somewh - there!" Marco cried triumphantly as they saw the unique ice cream truck driving down a street. They had spent almost three quarters of an hour searching for that exact ice cream truck and they were starting to get a little cranky to say the least.

"Great. We found it. Horray." Ryan grumbled. "Now how are we supposed to get the note off the back?" He squinted his eyes and peered at it before throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't even see it!"

Marco, having the better eyesight, looked carefully and intensely at the back of the truck before spotting it on the far left side of the truck. "I see it, Ryan. Just drive along side the truck on the left and I'll get it."

"It's a moving truck, Marco, how're you supposed to get it?" Ryan asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll reach out and-"

Ryan looked at him like he was crazy. "You are not going to_ 'reach out and get it' _Marco."

"Why?"

"Because I'd rather you _not_ die on my watch?"

Marco gave him a look. "Ryan, I'm not going to die. Don't worry, it'll be easy. You just need to keep the car steady."

Ryan sighed, praying another car wouldn't decide to come around the corner just then, and pulled up next to the truck. Marco rolled the window down the entire way and started to cautiously lean out. He got his torso all the way out the door and was continuing to push himself as he reached for the white envelope.

Ryan was having a panic attack as his eyes flickered at a maniac pace between the road and his friend. Suddenly, as the truck rounded the corner, a parked car that was in their lane popped into view. "SHIT!" Ryan yelled as he slammed on the brakes.

With a shout of surprise Marco was thrown from the car and landed on the gravel with a sickening thud.

"_Marco!_" Ryan flew out of the car and ran around to the other side.

Marco's arm raised slowly into the air, his hand clutching the envelope. "Got it," he groaned.

"God dammit Dylan!" Ryan cursed, glaring at the note. "He is _so_ going to get it!" The furious twelfth grader held a hand out to Marco and pulled him up as gently as he could.

Wincing regardless, Marco grabbed on to it and stood up, brushing the pebbles off his arm and noticing the bloody scratches and forming bruises on his elbows. He then proceeded to tear the envelope open and both boys started reading it.

_Marco-_

_Nice job baby ;) (hopefully it wasn't too much trouble)-_

Ryan snorted at this.

_-buttttttttttttttttttt you're not quite done. Haha, I know, I know, you're probably rolling your eyes right now, but there's not too many places left, I promise. _

_Anyways, now you need to go to where you first watched me play :)_

Marco smiled. "Alright, well this isn't hard. We just need to go to the old hockey arena."

Ryan nodded. "Fine. But you listen to me, del Rossi," he glared into Marco's brown eyes. "If I tell you not to do something...Do. Not. Do. It. You may be in denial about this or something, but you're a freaking danger magnet. So things that would probably work out fine for most people, _will not work for you!_ So that means, if Dylan puts a note in the middle of the ice in the arena or something stupid like that, _you're not getting it!_ Do you know how much it would suck if I had to find Dylan myself and tell him his boyfriend died because he was trying to get the note he left for him?"

Marco felt an odd desire to burst out laughing as he looked at him with a slightly surprised visage. "Got it."

"You better." He went around to the driver's seat and got in. Marco sat down too and waited for the car to start.

Ryan hesitated before turning to Marco, the tone of his voice completely different as he asked, "You are okay, though right?"

Marco grinned. "I'm good, Ryan, really."

He paused again. "And...I'm not mad at you, okay?"

The Italian boy nodded.

Ryan let out a deep breath before giving Marco a crooked smile. "You should feel special, del Rossi. You're the only person I actually feel guilty about yelling at."

Marco laughed and winked. "Well now I do."

Ryan started the car and headed to the old arena, pondering what it was about Marco that made him feel so bad when he snapped at him. He shook his head at himself, now knowing why Dylan never, ever got into a fight with the younger boy. It was impossible.

When they arrived Marco hopped out of the car and Ryan kept a careful eye out for anything remotely hazardous. Dylan had trusted Marco's safety with Ryan and he wasn't about to let him down. The envelope was taped to the locked doors of the arena.

"Okay, let's hope Dylan doesn't send us on another goose chase," Ryan muttered.

Marco silently agreed, but he stepped forward and opened the note anyway.

_Marco-_

_Yay you've finally reached my last note ;) haha so now you get a riddle. Yeah, I know, lucky you._

_So...here it goes. _

_"Go to the place that never leaves but is in constant motion."_

_I know, it's lame..._

_But you love me anyway _:D

Marco laughed at that, shaking his head at Dylan's dorkiness. "Finally we're done." Excitement was working it's way into the Italian boy all over again. He bounced slightly in his step as they hurried back to the car, Ryan chuckling at him.

They drove to the river bed and Marco vaguely noticed the dirt covering him and the slight blood on his arms, but he really didn't care they were there; all he wanted to know was what this whole thing was for.

The younger boy practically sprinted out of the car when they arrived, spotting Dylan immediately. Dylan's face lit up when he saw Marco, and as he got closer he brandished a bouquet of flowers.

Marco blushed a deep red as the older boy gave them to him and pulled his boyfriend into a hug. "What's this about Dyl?" Marco asked, burning with curiosity.

"Well," Dylan murmured into his hair, his heart speeding in his chest. "I was just wondering..." He looked into those warm, brown eyes and smiled. "Will you go to the Prom with me?"

Marco, if possible, blushed even harder and beamed at his boyfriend, hugging him tightly. "Of course I will!" After a while, Marco looked up at him and stated amusedly, "You went to all this trouble..."

Dylan grinned. "Anything for you, del Rossi." Though now that he got a better look at him, he noticed the blood and the dirt caked on his arms and shirt. His expression waved to worry. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, I think I'll field that one," Ryan announced, walking up to them. Marco had completely forgotten he was there. "Yeah, it was real brilliant taping the clue to the back of a moving ice cream truck!" He playfully shoved Dylan and glared at him.

"It was moving?" Dylan looked shocked. "I didn't know it was working today..."

Marco's big eyes were yelling _shut-up!_ at him but Ryan only winked at them. "Yeah. Your ingenious boyfriend had the idea to lean out of the car and grab the note off the truck, which in return chucked him out of the car."

Dylan's eyes went wide as he looked from Marco's avoiding gaze to Ryan's mischievous one. "What?" He looked only at Marco now. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Dyl," Marco rolled his eyes and smiled. But Dylan still looked at him concernedly and guiltily. "Hey, no frowns," Marco told him, hugging him again.

That worked. Dylan couldn't help a smile from breaking on his face. "I love you," He told him softly, pressing his lips to the top of Marco's head.

Marco sighed. "I love you too."

They stayed like that for some time, just the two of them. Ryan had left some time ago to give them privacy, knowing Dylan had his car hidden somewhere around. But finally when they did part, they walked hand in hand to the car, both boy's grins a mile wide.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **Aha! I finally did it :) I have to say, for some reason this chapter was the hardest to write :P But read and enjoy anyway :))

* * *

Marco was fiddling with his tie as he grinned stupidly into the mirror. Finally the night had come. It was Dylan's prom...and he was going with him.

Dylan knocked on the bathroom door. "Ready?"

Marco opened the door, and they both stared at each other with admiration. The other thought that his boyfriend couldn't have looked more gorgeous. Marco smiled and said, "As ready as I'll ever be."

Dylan took his hand and they walked down the stairs. They went to open the door when Paige burst out of no where, eyes ablaze. "Don't you _dare_ think about leaving without pictures!"

Marco laughed and Dylan rolled his eyes at her. "Paige," he groaned.

"Don't _'Paige'_ me, Dylan Michalchuk," Paige said forcefully, taking Marco's hand and pulling him into the living room. Marco gave Dylan an grin over his shoulder, and all Dylan could do was shake his head and follow his boyfriend and aggressive sister. "Mom!" she shouted up. "Marco and Dylan are ready to leave!"

Mrs. Michalchuk came flying down the stairs, her eyes bright. She stood in the background, trying not to cry as she let her daughter take over

"You, over there," Paige ordered Dylan, pointing where Marco was standing, looking beyond amused. Dylan blushed and swooped Marco into his arms. "Now say cheese!" Marco's cheeks turned pink too as he smiled widely at the camera. The light flashed and Marco saw spots. He turned to Dylan, grabbed his neck, and kissed him briefly. However an over-excited Paige snapped another picture, looked at it, and grinned.

Dylan smiled lovingly down at him boyfriend, and Paige went crazy with the flashes.

"Paige!" Dylan cried, annoyed.

"What?" she replied indignantly. "You're only going to go to the Prom once, Dyl. When you both are old and rusty you'll look back on this and thank me," she promised.

Dylan rolled his eyes again and grabbed his boyfriend, rushing out the door.

"Now I don't want to see either of you anytime soon, alright?" Mrs. Michalchuk called tearfully, giving both of them a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Have fun!" Paige yelled as they responded with goodbyes. Mr. Michalchuk was no where in sight.

Dylan hopped into the driver's spot, excited. Marco, however, slid into the passenger seat and started tapping his foot nervously. Dylan's electrified expression wavered a little at the look on Marco's face. The older boy turned to him softly. "Hey," he whispered, lifting Marco's chin a little with his fingers to look at him. "You okay?"

The Italian boy smiled apprehensively. "Yeah, of course." But that was a lie. He had been ecstatic when Dylan first asked him, but now he was insanely anxious about going to the Prom with people he didn't know that were two years older than him. He only knew Ryan and Dylan there, plus...he was gay. Were there a lot of homophobes in Dylan's grade? Maybe not, since Dylan was more than happy to go. But, then again, Dylan was more than capable of defending himself. Marco? Not so much.

Dylan looked at him worriedly, wondering whether this was such a good idea. He didn't want Marco to feel like he had to go for him if he didn't want to. "Are you sure-?"

Marco placed a finger on Dylan's lips and gave him a small smile. "Shush. I want to go." He sat back. "Now drive, Michalchuk, or we're going to be late."

Dylan grinned and started the car. When they arrived at the Prom, after making a quick stop at the hotel down the street, Dylan got out of the car first and looked at the building, running a hand through his hair. It had all started to hit him. He was a senior. He was going to University in the fall...he was leaving Marco here at Degrassi. Dylan was going to be completely independent for once in his life. _Whoa,_ Dylan thought a little scared. Things were going to be _very_ different.

However he proceeded to open the car door for Marco to get out, shrugging out of his jacket and undoing his tie. Marco was stiff for a few moments as he looked at the building dauntingly until he noticed Dylan trying to get more comfortable in his clothes.

Dylan gave him a crooked smile. "I don't want to suffocate in there with this thing on," he told him, his blue eyes shimmering amusedly as he waved the tie and threw it into the car.

Marco smirked and mimicked his boyfriend. After he was suffieciently comfortable, Marco got out of the car and took Dylan's outstretched hand. "Don't worry," Dylan said quietly, drawing circles on the back of Marco's hand with his thumb as they walked up to the school. "Everyone already knows about us, it's not like we need to hide anything. People here are a lot more understanding then your father was. And if anyone gives us any trouble," Dylan gave him a playful wink. "We can always sick Ryan on them."

"Damn straight!"(1)

They turned around and saw Ryan grinning at them. Marco laughed as Ryan waltzed over to them with his date, twirling her around and moving with intentional clumsiness. She was blushing furiously and Marco took an instant liking to her; she didn't seem like the stuck up, snobby type.

"This," Ryan announced loudly, causing the girl to go even redder. "Is the lovely Miss Keely Moore."

"Hi," Keely greeted shyly. She had medium length, light brown hair and was a little on the short side. Keely had beautiful sea green eyes and was wearing a light green dress.

Marco and Dylan beamed at her and introduced themselves. It was ironic that someone as loud and impulsive as Ryan got a girl so shy and sweet like Keely.

"Shall we go in?" Ryan said in a mock formal voice, bending over slightly and extending his arm slightly for his date. She giggled a little and took it. Dylan and Marco exchanged amused glances before they walked into the building themselves.

The first thing both of them noticed was how stuffed to the brim with people the room was. It seemed like everyone barely had enough room to do more than jiggle a little to the music. The second thing the couple observed was how deafening the music was. It vibrated their spines and speaking seemed next to impossible. Dylan gave him a goofy smile as they pushed their way through the mob.

The older boy waved and tried his best to shout greetings to what seemed like the entire twelfth grade. Guys, girls, you name them, Dylan knew them. The couple finally found a spot where you could actually move a few inches, and Marco still looked a little uneasy, but he smiled reassuringly up at the elder boy as Dylan placed his hands gently on Marco's waist. The younger boy responded with wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's neck. They swayed to the slow music, feeling more and more comfortable as the time passed. They talked and made jokes, leaning close to hear each other over the noise and determiningly not acknowledging some of the curious looks they got.

At one point Marco was laughing so hard he had to lean into Dylan's embrace to keep himself upright. Dylan was cracking up himself, supporting Marco and ducking his head down. The older boy's eye caught with a smug looking Ryan, and his friend winked as he spun Keely around.

The songs alternated between loud, fast songs to slow, lazy ones. Eventually they both got tired and inched their way over to the punch bowl, sweaty and smiling widely. Ryan and Keely soon joined them, and they all sat down and chatted, drinking and enjoying themselves. After a few minutes Dylan and Ryan jumped back on the dance floor, jumping like maniacs as Marco bashfully asked a blushing Keely to dance. She nodded vigorously and they revolved around the dance floor. They started talking, and Marco discovered that his first impression had been right; Keely was one of the nicest girls he'd ever met.

Keely and Marco both chuckled and looked at their boyfriends dancing like psychos, not caring who was watching or how ridiculous they looked.

Dylan then saddled up to Marco and swooped him away with a flourish. The Italian boy gave Keely an apologetic and slightly bemused look as Dylan whirled them around, flying past other couples. People started clapping and cheering as they twirled faster and faster. Grinning widely they decided to put on a show for the audience and danced more dramatically. They finished with a grand finale and everyone whistled and applauded. Marco's cheeks were redder then they'd ever been as he smiled self-consciously down at his feet. Dylan was beaming stupidly at everyone as he lead Marco away.

They were cracking up as they stepped outside for some fresh air. Dylan's arm snaked around Marco's waist tightly as Marco rested his head on Dylan's shoulder. The older boy pressed his lips to Marco's hair softly. The younger boy looked up and they both moved in for a deep, unhurried kiss. The night was cool and they were alone as Marco tangled his fingers in Dylan's curls, the elder boy's hands placed firmly on the Italian boy's torso.

Marco's breath was sweet and warm to Dylan. It was intoxicating. Their hearts beat in a quick, spluttering rhythm. The noise, intimidating twelfth graders, and their obscure future together were forgotten. The only thing that mattered to them right now were each other.

* * *

Kissing passionately, Marco and Dylan backed into the rented hotel room just a few streets down. Hearts pounding together in unison, they fell on to the bed. After a few minutes they broke apart and Marco smiled shyly up at the older boy hovering over him.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Dylan asked him cautiously, not wanting to pressure him or anything into doing something he wasn't ready for.

Marco laced his fingers around his boyfriend's neck and kissed him sweetly. "I'm ready."

They made love for the first time that night. Dylan was gentle and slow, making Marco feel like the final piece of the puzzle was found. They officially belonged to each other now, which was what they really needed. This proved that it didn't matter that Dylan was having to move forward, Marco was always going to be there with him.

* * *

The next morning, Marco awoke with a smile on his face. He was in complete bliss just cuddled up to Dylan's warm chest. He sensed that it was still morning, but judgeing by the still dark sky, it was too early to get up yet. But Marco was itching to take a shower, despite how comfortable he was.

So, after a few more minutes of listening to Dylan's slow, even breathing, Marco sighed and slinked out of his arms, maneuvering his way artistically out of the bed without waking the sleeping blonde. Already naked, he didn't waste time simply hopping in the shower and relaxing instantly at the hot water.

Dylan stirred to the sound of the shower running. His foggy mind confused, he realized that a significant other was not safe and snug in his arms. Sitting up, he suddenly got an idea.

Grinning, Dylan quietly opened the bathroom door. Marco was humming tunelessly in the hot water, shampooing his hair and unable to keep the slight smile he had woken up with off his face. He didn't hear a thing.

The older boy crept to the shower and slipped inside. He wrapped his arms around Marco's stomach and pressed his lips to his boyfriend's neck. To say that he was sufficiently startled would have been an understatement.

Dylan chuckled softly as Marco almost jumped out of his skin. He relaxed when he realized who it was, and leaned his head back against the blonde's chest. They took turns washing each other, Marco blushing furiously the entire time.

When they emerged, the Italian attempted to wrap a towel around his waist, but Dylan, eyes twinkling mischievously, grabbed at it, leaned close to his ear, and whispered, "There's no need for that." The hockey player looked down at him with satisfaction and admiration when Marco's face once again turned red and a smile played on his features.

The happy couple walked back into their room, and Dylan instantly flopped back on the bed and buried his face in the pillow, exhausted as Marco went to grab the clothes they had dropped off before going to the Prom the other night. Dylan rolled over to watch him with interest, wondering why he was bothering to go to school anyway. The Italian gave him a sad smile and said, "Come on Dyl, get dressed. You don't want to miss you're graduation today." Marco left to go blow dry his hair, failing to see that Dylan's face had fallen drastically. _Graduation?_

Crap.

He was not ready for this. The blonde glared at his graduation robe hanging innocently on the hotel room's dresser. He would have to wear that today...and he didn't want to. Dylan didn't want to leave Marco at Degrassi...and to him that's what the robe symbolized. Disgusted, he threw the robe on the ground and searched around for a shirt and jeans.

Marco reappeared as a flurry of clothes bombarded his head. "Uh, having fun there Dyl?" Marco asked amusedly, the shirts on him muffling his voice.

Grinning apologetically, Dylan walked over to him and pulled the clothes off Marco's head, making his fluffy hair stand up statically. Dylan laughed at the sight and Marco swatted at him with playful reproach, smoothing his hair back down.

The younger boy saw the robe on the ground and raised an eyebrow curiously. "What's your Graduation robe doing on the floor? Your mom like, freaked out over it about it staying spotless."

He went to go pick it up but Dylan hurriedly shoved it under the dresser with his foot. Smiling innocently, he asked, "What robe?"

Marco gave him a suspicious look, reaching down and picking it up anyway. "What's the matter? You were all excited about graduating just last week."

"Yeah...but that was last week. Now it's actually here." He frowned, his hand subconsciously flying up to run his fingers through Marco's hair. He looked into his brown eyes. "I don't want to go."

Marco stepped forward and hugged him. "I don't want you to go either," he whispered. "But you're not leaving forever _miele__**(honey)**_. You'll only be half an hour away, and we've got the whole summer together."

Dylan nodded, feeling a little reassured by that. "Okay..."

Marco pulled back before turning away from him and smoothing the robe on the bed. Giving Dylan an adoring smile, he walked out of the room again to brush his teeth.

Dylan almost felt physical pain watching Marco leave, he loved him so much right then. Sighing, he turned back to the robe. He still didn't like it, and if he had his way he'd throw it out the window and stay home all day with Marco. But it seemed to matter to his boyfriend that he didn't miss this, so with reluctance he slipped it on and looked in the mirror.

Why did he feel so anxious?

* * *

While every other grade went through their normal school routine, Dylan spent all day rehearsing 'graduating' with his class, joking with Ryan, purposely screwing everyone up, and wishing he could see Marco. He was thoroughly distracted ninety percent of the entire process, and by the end of it all he could tell that the Principal, Ms. Hatzilakos, was frustrated beyond belief.

However, he fixed his best award-winning smile as he lined up for the ceremony to begin. His blue eyes searched tirelessly and almost frantically for his boyfriend, knowing that today was going to be hard on both of them. He was actually a little afraid that he wouldn't show up. And if he didn't, he wasn't sure what Marco would say. _Would he break them up?_ The very thought slid into his system like an ice cube, chilling him and causing goosebumps to erupt on his skin.

Little did he know that Marco was having the same problem. _Could they do the(somewhat) long-distanced relationship? Would they survive? Or would he rather have the full 'University experience' and play the field? _He felt like he was going to throw up at the image of him with someone else. _But was that for the best?_

Marco was shaking slightly as he sat down beside Paige. She was absolutely bursting with excitement, and the Italian boy felt like he should just put his doubts aside and just be happy for Dylan. This was a big deal. But another uncertainty kept nagging at him. _Will I still be allowed to stay at Dylan's house even though he's not there?_

The older boy finally spotted the younger boy, and Marco smiled as reassuringly as he could back at him. If anything, this was what calmed Dylan down the most.

"Ryan Chandler."

Suddenly Marco and Paige leapt from their seats, clapping and hollering congratulations as Ryan, grinning, stepped forward and took his diploma. He did some intentionally bad dance as he shuffled off the stage, causing the teachers to groan in embarrassment and the students and parents to laugh loudly. Dylan would've laughed too, if he hadn't realized that Marco was avoiding looking directly at him now. Whenever he would glance in his direction, it was always just to the right or left of him. Never full on, and it was driving Dylan crazy. _Look at me! _He inwardly begged, but Marco didn't receive the message.

Until his name was called.

"Dylan-"

Marco's deep, strikingly dark eyes suddenly shot to Dylan's clear blue ones and for a brief second the entire world seemed to melt away.

"-Michalchuk." Dylan stepped forward in a daze and took his diploma, hearing Marco's beautiful voice cheering above all the others.

And that was it. In those few short seconds as his hand reached for his diploma, he went from a high school student to a University one. And he wasn't sure he liked it.

Marco watched as Dylan went to get his diploma, and he knew right then that he wasn't going to ruin this day for him. And he wasn't about to let him go either. They would work everything out for next year. They had to.

"Congratulations!" Marco cried, flinging his arms around Dylan's neck as soon as the older boy was free to wander around.

Dylan smiled widely at Marco's enthusiasm, hugging him back. Though he was completely confused. _Wasn't he just avoiding me before? _"Thanks sweetheart."

Paige attacked Dylan with her own ferocious hug just as Marco pulled away. "Dylan! I can't believe you just graduated! Oh my god, does that mean I get your room?"

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid, Paige. That's Marco's room."

Marco looked somewhat surprised and insanely relieved. "I still get to stay?"

"Of course you're still staying Marco!" Dylan looked shocked himself that Marco would even bother to think otherwise. "Where else would you go?"

Marco shrugged. "I have no idea. I just thought...because you're moving out..."

Dylan pulled him back into a hug. "No, baby, no, I wouldn't just leave you without being able to stay at my house."

"Um, Dylan? Can I, uh, talk to you for a sec?" Paige asked nervously.

He gave her an odd look. "Sure?" He looked down at Marco and smiled. "I'll be right back."

Marco stretched upwards and kissed him sweetly. "Okay. I have to go find Ryan and congratulate him before he hunts me down anyway."

Dylan chuckled as Marco squeezed through a group of people and disappeared. Turning to his sister, he raised an eyebrow almost annoyed. "Now what were you talking about?"

Paige fidgeted. "Um, Dylan...you remember how Dad wasn't exactly thrilled to take Marco in..."

Dylan narrowed his eyes. "What're you saying?"

Paige sighed. "I love having Marco stay with us, but when Mom and Dad took him in...I'm not so sure they meant until he went off to University or College or whichever. That's two more full years."

"They're not kicking him out." Dylan said forcefully.

Paige patted his arm sympathetically. "Hon, if it were up to me this wouldn't even be an issue. But talk to Mom and Dad before you make any promises."

He marched away from her without a word, eyes searching for his parents. Dylan saw Marco give him a curious look, but he just shook his head angrily as if to say, _'Not now.'_

When Dylan spotted his beaming parents, he stormed over to them. "You're not kicking Marco out."

"What?" Mrs. Michalchuk asked, shocked.

"I said," he almost growled, looking straight at his father despite the fact that he was answering his mother's question. "You're not kicking Marco out just because I'm going to University."

"Well why would-" Mrs. Michalchuk start to say before her husband cut her off.

"Dylan, it just wouldn't make any sense for him to stay. I mean, you're not there now..."

"So? He's got no where else to stay Dad!"

"John...he is on his own..." Mrs. Michalchuk said slowly.

"I'm not keeping a boy that isn't mine for another two years. It's not our responsibility. Why can't he just go to Child Support?"

Dylan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Because he has a perfectly good home at our house! And if he goes there, they might ship him off to another family half way across the world or something!"

"Don't be ridiculous," his father said exasperately.

"Mom? Please?" Dylan damn near begged.

She turned to her husband. "It's not like we'll be losing extra money. It'll just be as if Dylan were still living at home. And he doesn't eat as much so we'll probably be saving money," she joked.

Mr. Michalchuk sighed. "Fine."

Dylan grinned, giving them both a hug. "Thanks!" And he took off to find Marco.

Marco was talking and laughing with Ryan when Dylan came up behind him and swooped him away in a flourish. Surprised but happy, Marco giggled as Dylan put him down and kissed him hard.

"What was that for?" Marco smiled.

Dylan ran a finger down Marco's jawline. His eyes twinkled as he said, "Nothing. Just that you've finally found a permanent home."

"Oh." Marco asked, face falling slightly in disappointment. "Where?"

It was Dylan's turn to smile. "With me."

* * *

(1) This is my actual friend Ryan's catch phrase so I thought it was fitting to put it in :D But don't worry, I didn't intentionally name the Fake-Ryan after the Real-Ryan :P That would just be weird haha


	15. Chapter 15

Marco was sitting on Dylan's lap as they watched the television, kissing occassioanlly. They were both still in their pajamas and was intending on staying like that the entire day. And just as Marco was about to pull Dylan into another one, Paige burst into the living room, carrying huge cans of paint.

They both looked at the younger Michalchuk curiously. "Uh, what're you-?" Dylan started to ask.

"My room has always been the same colour, I think I need, you know, a change," Paige told them excitedly. She held up three brushes. "Help me?"

"Paigeeee," they both groaned in unison.

"Come on," she pleaded. "Please?"

"Where exactly did you get the paint?" Dylan asked. "I didn't drive you anywhere."

"Hon, I'm not _completely_ helpless," she smirked.

They still looked hesitant so Paige stuck out her lower lip and gave them the puppy dog eyes.

"Nuh-uh, you can't do that, that's my thing!" Marco whined, deliberately not looking straight into them.

Dylan smiled adoringly down at him and squeezed their entwined hands.

"Please, please, please? I'll owe you guys big time."

Marco sighed and got up. "Alright," he gave in. "Let me just change into 'painting clothes,' " he rolled his eyes and bounded up the stairs.

Dylan mock glared at her. "You ruined our relaxing day," he pouted.

Paige grinned and ruffled her brother's hair. "Suck it up, hon, and go get changed!"

Dylan shrugged, "I will when Marco comes back down."

A few minutes later, Marco came down in a white t-shirt and jean overalls. He grabbed a brush and a can and said, "Okay, let's paint this room-" He read the label and raised an eyebrow. "Lavender truffle?"

Dylan laughed at the incredulous look on Marco's face, getting up and pecking him on the cheek. "You're adorable, you know that?"

Marco grinned, "It's always nice to hear."

Paige pushed Dylan towards the stairs. "Go!" she ordered, smiling.

They all trumped up the stairs, Paige and Marco into her room, and Dylan went into his and Marco's to get changed.

As Dylan was finishing, he heard Marco shout something in horror. He ran into the room and saw Marco swatting and jumping all over the place. "_Bee! Bee in the room!_"

"Marco!" Paige cried, trying to calm him down. Dylan grabbed a newspaper off the pile they had that they were going to use to cover the floor and rolled it up. He then took a couple good swipes before he finally hit and killed the bee.

Marco looked shaken and resentful. "I _hate_ bees!" He stated with feeling. "They're like flying death monkeys." He shuddered.

Paige and Dylan exchanged a look before they started howling with laughter. Dylan walked over to a bewildered looking Marco and hugged him tightly, chortling, "I love you!"

Marco smiled, still looking bemused.

"Okay love birds, let's get started," Paige grinned. "Spin'll be here pretty soon to help."

Now it was Marco's turn to laugh. "Spinner Mason? Our Spinner? Painting? This is going to be fun."

Beaming, they all started rolling their brushes in the paint and began on the walls. The doorbell rang not too long afterwards, and Paige flew down the steps to get it.

Spinner charged into the room and said, "Is everyone ready to-!" He tripped over an unopened can of paint and crashed into Marco. Spinner leapt up and held a hand out to Marco, looking apologetic as Dylan watched Marco's expression.

Marco chuckled, "Are you sure you want to do this, Spin?"

Spinner mock glowered at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Marco shrugged, "Sorry, but you're about as coordinated as a wounded polar bear."

"Hey!"

Everyone laughed as Dylan nudged him, winking, "You're just full of jokes today, aren't you?"

Marco smiled widely, "I'm on a roll."

Dylan wrapped his hands around Marco's waist, leaned down and kissed him several times on the cheek as Marco laughed, leaning back.

Paige tugged Marco and Dylan, saying, "Hey! My room? Needs paint? Remember?"

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine Paigey, we're coming."

They spent hours painting her room. It was actually a lot more fun then they expected. At one point Marco had taken his paint-filled brush, pulled it back, and splattered Spinner's beloved hair. Spinner spun around and glared at him jokingly. "Oh, you're going to get it del Rossi."

Marco grinned, holding his paintbrush like a sword. "Bring it, Mason."

Spinner tackled Marco to the ground, and they began wrestling, trying to paint each other's faces, hair, and anything they could reach. Dylan and Paige stopped and watched their boyfriends wrestle, their hearts swelling with love.

After they were both sufficiently covered in purple paint, they dipped their brushes back in, looked at each other mischievously, and launched themselves at the unsuspecting Michalchuks.

Dylan cried in surprise and laughter more than protest, which was more than he could say about Paige. "Spin!" She glanced at her hair. "You got it in my hair, are you serious?" Paige attacked Spinner with her brush furiously.

Dylan had caught Marco when he jumped at him, and they both starting giggling and yelling at each other as Marco smeared paint all in his beautiful curls and face, and Dylan attempted to do the same.

Marco giggled placing handprints all over Dylan's shirt before announcing, "There, I think you're all done!"

Dylan grinned, kissing him sweetly.

Paige smirked, "You know, I think we got more paint on each other than my walls."

Spinner shoved Marco playfully. "It's all del Rossi's fault," he accused.

"Well excuse me for wanting to make this less boring," he sniggered.

"Hey Marco, I completely forgot," Spinner smacked himself on the forehead. "We have band practice today!"

Marco suppressed a groan and looked to Dylan. He smiled and shrugged. "That's okay...hey wait, could I watch?"

Both band members shared a surprised glance before Marco looked at his boyfriend amusedly. "Are you sure you want to do that Dyl? We don't exactly...function like you'd think a normal band would."

"But that makes it more fun," Dylan teased.

Marco shook his head wonderingly at Dylan, smiling. "It's a free country. But if you get a flying drumstick to the head, I'm allowed to laugh."

Dylan grinned widely at him. "It's a deal."

* * *

As it turns out, Dylan did end up getting not only a drumstick to the head (which, admittingly, both he and Marco chuckled a bit at), but a broken frisbee and half a pretzel.

"You want us to play at your cousin's wedding?" Marco asked incredulously. They were all sitting in Craig's garage, looking at their friend like he had a second head growing out of his shoulder.

"Yeah!" Craig said excitedly. "Just when we're ready to preform we get an opportunity like this! It's fate, I tell you."

"You've got to be joking," Spinner said. "Downtown Sasquatch as a _wedding_ band?"

"Hey, I think it'd be a good opportunity," Craig said defensively. "I think someone up there wants us to play at this wedding."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "Who? The God of Mediocrity?"

Jimmy grinned and said in a deep and slow voice, "_Downtown Sasquatch! Go forth and play the Chicken Dance._"

Everyone except Craig burst out laughing. Dylan smiled and shook his head.

"Do you guys have a better idea?" Craig argued.

"Yeah," Spinner retorted. "Anything."

"Look," Jimmy said. "The music you have to play at weddings are lame, wedding bands are lame, ergo, if we play at this wedding; WE'RE LAME. Do you really want to be known as _'Downtown Sasquatch, the next Andre and the J-Tones'_?"

"When's your cousin's wedding?" Marco asked in a compromising voice.

"Umm in a few months..."

"Well, there we go," Marco told them. "Why don't we browse for other opportunities until then, and if nothing comes up then we'll play at the wedding."

Everyone nodded reluctantly and Marco rolled his eyes and winked at Dylan. He beamed back, feeling proud of his boyfriend.

"Okay, are we ready to play?" Spinner said, getting pumped.

"One more thing," Craig said. "Our logo..."

They all groaned.

"Our logo's _fine_ Craig," Jimmy said exasperately. "Now can we just play?"

They practiced 'Downtown Sasquatch's' original songs, _'Anywhere I Lay My Head,' 'I Can't Keep My Hands Off Of You,' 'Dust' _and '_Something 'Bout The Way You Shine.'_ They also took some song requests from a cheering Dylan(including one of Marco's favourites, _'Far Away' _by Nickelback) when they all got tired and called the practice over.

As everyone trumped out of Craig's garage, Dylan bent down and kissed him gently. "My little rockstar," he whispered, smiling.

Marco blushed. "We're pretty dysfunctional."

Dylan grinned, "But that's the best part!"

Marco laughed, "You won't be saying that when we have a _bad_ day. Sometimes I don't even know how we get anything done with all of them screaming at each other."

Dylan chuckled. "Well, I guess they're lucky to have someone like you del Rossi to settle their fights."

"It doesn't always work," Marco admitted. "Frankly I'm surprised it did this time, since they looked pretty fired up about it."

"Hey, you guys planning on living in my garage or what?" Craig called back to them.

The Italian boy grinned. "Hmm...It's an interesting thought...but I think I'll have to pass on that one, Craig." He gestured towards the badly and obviously-put-up-by-Craig decorations on the walls. "It's not really my style."

"Oh really?" Craig raised an eyebrow, eyes glistening teasingly.

Marco put on a mock thoughtful expression. "Yeah. You should fire whoever did this room."

Craig lunged towards him and put him into a headlock, ruffling his hair with his knuckles as Marco squirmed away and jumped on him. They fell to the floor and wrestled while Dylan chortled again and followed Spinner outside. Jimmy was just being picked up by his dad so it was only the drummer and the fan now.

Spinner was biting his lip, evidently considering something as his eyes kept flashing towards the garage where Marco and Craig were to Dylan.

"What?" Dylan asked curiously.

Spinner looked uneasy. "Um...well it's just...Marco's like my best friend right?" Dylan gave a small nod. "And well, he obviously really likes you and-" He took a deep breath. "Look, I know you're going off to University and everything and I just don't want to see him get hurt, you know? Just...promise me that you meant it when you said that you'd keep in contact or whatever with him alright?"

Dylan gave him a crooked smile. "You know I will Spinner."

Spinner nodded himself. "Just double checking. I-" he looked a bit awkward. "I don't usually have to, you know, do this for a guy or something, but it just feels like I have to with Marco." He grinned. "He's not too smart sometimes. An idiot...a moron if you will, so he wouldn't know if someone was going to screw him over until they had actually done it, and not 'til long after that." He shrugged. "He's a good guy. So if you mess with him-" He mock punched his hand suggestively. "Some University punk's gonna get'it."

Dylan burst out laughing, long and hard, and Spinner joined him. "Oh, now I'm scared. Spinner Mason's on the hunt," Dylan joked.

"You should be!" Spinner playfully shoved Dylan. "Dude, I can be freaking dangerous if I want to."

"You're ridiculous."

Marco and Craig came out just then, looking conspicuously disheveled. Looking curiously at the chortling guys, Craig asked, "Mind letting us in on the joke?"

Dylan and Spinner shared an amused glance. "Oh, nothing important," Dylan replied airily. He winked at Marco's smirk and raised eyebrow.

Marco and Dylan walked home together, hand in hand. The sun was setting and it was a beautiful summer evening. They didn't talk, but they didn't need to. The couple just enjoyed the scenery and tried not to think about anything but each other.

* * *

Heads up, the next chapter is the last one! :( awww.

But reviews are still welcome!


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: **this is the last chapter for Holding On :( but please read, review, and enjoy!

**ellielovesdtng: **wow that means so much! :D and I _do_ have a sequel in mind :)) but it's still pretty sketchy so it might take a while to post it up...but just bear with me here :)) so you haven't heard the last of me ;)

* * *

The summer months had come and gone, and now the couple were faced with what they'd hope they could have put off forever.

Marco and Dylan silently walked up to Dylan's new dorm room. They didn't know what to say to each other. It wasn't like their usual, comfortable, quiet; this was much more strained and lonely. The couple were both holding Dylan's last two boxes of stuff in their arms as they entered his room.

Amazingly, Dylan and Ryan's request to be roommates was granted, and that was one thing that Dylan was ecstatic about. However he'd trade it all if he could only have Marco be there with him. Ryan had already moved his stuff into the room the other day, so Dylan didn't have to worry about his psychotic friend popping in and ruining their last few moments together.

They layed the boxes down and started unpacking. In an attempt to lighten the mood, Dylan turned on the radio and started screeching to the song. Marco glanced up at Dylan sharply in quickly dawning horror before he burst out laughing. Falling to the floor, he shut his eyes and giggled, clutching his stomach. Dylan laughed too and continued singing, but all the while looking at Marco with admiration. The sound of Marco's laughter was the best sound in the world, and he looked so adorable right now.

Marco then joined in with the singing, his voice sounding a million times better than Dylan's as they danced and unpacked at the same time. After a couple hours, Marco and Dylan sighed simultaneously and flopped on the couch. Dylan's arm automatically went around Marco's shoulder as the Italian boy snuggled up to Dylan's chest. Neither of them ever wanted to move as they stayed there for what felt like days.

Soon, as the minutes ticked away, someone honked outside to let them know that Mrs. Michalchuk and Paige were there to take Marco home. They stood up and averted their gaze from each other until they got to the door. Marco's big brown eyes looked up into Dylan's blue ones, both equally as melancholy. Dylan didn't know what to do now; he was _never_ good at goodbyes.

But Marco effortlessly stepped forward, threw his arms around Dylan's neck, and hugged him. Just a simple hug, but that was all Dylan needed. He hugged him back earnestly, tears welling up in both their eyes. When Marco pulled back gently, Dylan felt like half his heart was pulling away from him.

The younger boy gave him a watery smile before he brandished a note out of his pocket. "Here, this is for you. Don't read it until I'm gone, though."

Dylan gave Marco a crooked smile before he pulled out a note of his own. "Looks like great minds do think alike, huh?"

The horn outside honked for the second time before they quickly exchanged notes. With a fleeting look, Marco gave him a quick hug before he took off down the hallway; Paige was most likely seething as the horn kept blasting non-stop. Dylan was left to stare after him before he looked down at the note. The older boy opened it up and found two notes. He began reading the first one, inwardly marveling at how neat and perfect his handwriting was.

_Dylan,_

_Where should I begin? Well, to be honest I have no idea. Me saying congratulations on surviving high school (which, by the way, I'm jealous of since I still have two more years before I get to be where you are) is probably what you're expecting this letter to be about. But what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't keep you guessing?_

_Don't get me wrong; part of this letter __is__ to tell you how proud I am of you for making it this far. I want you to have the time of your life there (don't forget to say hi to Ryan for me!).But there's more to this than that._

_In so many words, I'd like to thank you, Dylan. You mean the world to me, and truth be told, I'm not completely sure that "thank you" is a strong enough word. I can't tell you how much your being there for me meant when it seemed like the everything was out to get me. Like nothing would ever be the same. And it hasn't. But waking up every day and knowing that you were mine made every other problem seem helped me see things I couldn't before, and though I'm going to miss you desperately, I want you to have the best possible time in University. Though having you come home every weekend is definitely going to make this easier. I love you, Dylan. And I always will._

_Ci vediamo presto miele __**(I'll see you soon honey)**__._

_Love,_

_Marco._

Dylan could almost hear Marco's lovely voice saying that last line in Italian, and his arms erupted in goose bumps. Tears fell from the blonde's eyes. He clasped the note to his chest and stared down the empty hallway once more. This was the most beautiful thing he'd ever read, and right now all he wanted to do was run outside, find Marco, and kiss him. Tell him how much he loved him, have him stay here with them and never have to leave.

He continued to cry silently, lips quavering a little. It felt good to cry; he felt like he was cleansing himself. The _idea_ of leaving was almost always harder than leaving itself, so he knew the worst part was already behind him. The older boy just needed to get used to Marco living somewhere else, and not seeing him every day and he'd be fine.

Right?

* * *

"Sorry!" Marco apologized as he hopped into the back of the car.

"No problem," Paige said a little stiffly from the front passenger seat. Patience was never her strongest trait.

Marco buckled his seatbelt and leaned back against the chair. He quietly opened Dylan's letter and smiled to himself as he looked at Dylan's messy writing.

_Marco,_

_I can't begin to tell you how __**hard **__me having to be somewhere you're not is going to be. You mean everything to me, Marco, and all I want is for you to be here with me too._

_I remember the first time I met you, on that silly little beach trip a year ago. You had this bubbly, care-free personality to you that I found absolutely irresistible. I barely knew you then, and I already fell in love. It took all the courage I had and then some to ask you out, and it was the best decision I've ever made in my entire life._

_And even when your reign of bad luck began, I only loved you more and more. I had such a strong feeling of protectiveness for you; I wanted to get rid of anything and everything that tried to hurt you. Hurt __us__._

_I L-O-V-E love, love you. I don't think I can ever say that enough and still get you to understand how true those words are. My heart will always belong to you. I need you so much mon chéri__**(my dear)**__, and though it's only for a little while, I can't wait until we can see each other again. I already miss you._

_Love always,_

_Dylan._

_Oh my...no, don't cry yet Marco, I swear to god don't cry..._ Marco bit his lip so hard it almost started bleeding. He held strong the entire way home, looking out the window and keeping his mind purposely blank. Until he got up into Dylan's room and started crying at it's emptiness. They had such fun together...so many memories in this room...

Paige came into Dylan's bedroom, tears pouring down her face too. She and the rest of her family and said their goodbyes before Marco went over to help Dylan unpack, and now it was finally starting to sink in; Dylan was gone.

Marco pulled Paige into a hug and they cried together, silently for the most part except for the occasional gasp for air. After a little while of this, Marco wiped his eyes and said in a husky voice, "W-well it's not like...he...is gone f-forever or anything, he'll be back soon enough." Marco couldn't say Dylan's name just yet. "It'll be h-hard at first. We're all s-so used to having him home every day...but we'll see him from time to time and we'll eventually g-get used to it."

Paige nodded, sniffling. "C-can I sleep with you tonight, Marco? I...don't want to b-be on m-my own."

Marco gave her a small hug and answered, "Of course Paigey."

She cuddled up to his chest and they stayed like that for some time, Marco sadly humming the tune to Dylan's song while still clutching Dylan's note. Eventually they decided to go downstairs and watch a happy movie or something. Take their minds off of you-know-who.

They had picked out a comedy movie when Marco's cell phone started ringing. He glanced at the Caller ID and his heart stopped. Bolting out of the chair (and dislodging a surprised Paige) Marco mouthed a _Sorry, one sec! _before he ran up the stairs to Dylan's bedroom. He pressed the talk button and said, "Hello?"

"Marco?" The Italian boy could hear the smile on Dylan's face as he spoke.

Marco grinned and they both started speaking at once.

"-You're letter was so amazing..."

"-it was perfect..."

"-thank you so much, it was exactly what I needed..."

"I love you." They said the last line in unison before they paused and burst out laughing.

"So I'm guessing you liked it?" Marco stated, unable to keep the goofy smile off his face.

"Mmm, nahh that's why it's pinned up on my wall," Dylan teased.

Marco chortled and said sarcastically, "Haha, Michalchuk, you're _so_ funny."

"I try." Dylan winked, even though Marco couldn't see it.

Marco paused before he said quietly, "You know it's going to be so different with you gone."

"I know. I'm almost positive I'm not going to be able to sleep without you safe in my arms. Or function properly when I wake up." Dylan replied longingly.

"Well, we have the holidays and long weekends together right?" Marco said hopefully.

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss that for the _world._"

Marco giggled. "Good. And you better call regularly or you're going to come home to one angry boyfriend."

Dylan chuckled. "And I wouldn't want that, now would I?" He paused. "And if anything goes wrong, Marco. Anything at all, I want you to tell me alright? Any dream-predictions that you have, you need to tell me. I don't want you keeping anything from me now that I can't see you every second of the day."

Marco rolled his eyes. "Will do."

"I mean it," Dylan insisted. "I'm going to go crazy over here not knowing if my Marco's okay, because to be honest you've moved past being a magnet for bad luck. You're a _satellite._"

Marco laughed. "Hmm, what gave it away? The homophobic father perhaps?"

"Don't forget about Tim," Dylan replied scornfully.

"Ah. Right. Who could forget?" Marco answered a little nervously.

Dylan paused again. "He hasn't been...bothering you lately, has he?"

Marco smiled at Dylan's protectiveness. "Trust me Dyl, you'd be the first to know."

Dylan beamed into the phone. "Phew, that's a relief-"

"MARCOOOO!" Paige screamed up to him. "Are we going to watch the movie or not?"

Dylan laughed. "Paige?"

"Who else?" Marco groaned slightly. "We were planning on watching a comedy movie, you know, to stop us from mourning your absence."

Dylan smiled. "I promise to call as often as I can babe. I miss you already," He whined slightly.

"Believe me, honey, I know how that feels," Marco said earnestly. "I'm just happy I get to hear your voice again before I go to sleep tonight. Alone. In your room. By myself. Without you there. Am I the only one who's getting depressed by this?"

Dylan laughed. "Sweetie, you have no idea."

"MARCO!" Paige called up again, sounding more annoyed.

"You should call her too, you know," Marco said hurriedly. "She misses you a lot."

"I will," Dylan promised. "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to call you more."

Marco grinned. "Hey, I'm not complaining." Marco sighed unhappily. "I better go before Paige comes up here and murders me. Then I'll have nothing to look forward."

"And I'd _definitely_ have nothing to look forward to either," Dylan joked. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"That's not fair." Marco could hear the pout in his voice.

"Them's the breaks darling," Marco teased.

Dylan laughed. "I'll beat you eventually, del Rossi. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Dylan." And they hung up. Both still wore stupid little grins on their faces, but both had the same feeling of...emptiness. Of incompleteness.

This was going to be a hard two years.

THE END.

* * *

**Author's Note #2: **I just want to say a big THANK YOU for everyone who has stuck with me through this whole story :) I love you all!

~ S.D.


	17. IMPORTANT NOTICE

DON'T PANIC.

If you don't remember favouriting and/or following me, you're not going crazy. You've just done so while I was under a different name.

I'm still the same author; my name has just been changed. Why, you ask? Well, it's a bit of a funny story.

You see, some 'followers' I guess you can call them have added me on Facebook, and I'm not discrediting that; I love talking to you guys. But being the fool that I was and using my real name as my (former) username, some have abused the faith I put in you guys. For the past little while, I've been getting an alarming amount of messages on my Facebook from people who really didn't become my friend to talk about writing 'so to speak.' All the people who have done this have been blocked and unfriended and all that (if you haven't been blocked, then don't worry about this; we're still friends!), but I'm forced to change my name.

Unfortunately, in nearly all of my stories (if not all) I have listed my (former) username, so starting TOMORROW MAY 1ST I am going to be reuploading all of my stories with the changed name listed. Don't worry; nothing else will be changed, and any stories that you favourited/followed should still be accessible to you. But sadly, I'm afraid that all of your lovely reviews might be erased Please don't feel the need to re-review them, but if you are so inclined, they will always be appreciated.

And I must ask to any of you that are my friends on Facebook that I haven't blocked, PLEASE do not talk about any of my stories on my wall. Inbox me instead. I must be strict about this; starting tomorrow, if I find any comments regarding my works, they will be deleted. If you persist, I'm afraid you will also be unfriended and/or blocked.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience to the people who have been nothing but kind to me.

I'll be posting this notice in all of my stories as well as on my profile.


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